


Stereotype

by Yekith



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Friendship, Gender Issues, Homophobia, M/M, Teen Romance, school fic, the one where Ray is Frank's half brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 47,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yekith/pseuds/Yekith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stereotyping is wrong. Yet, there are many stereotypes that seem to be engraved into society. Some people fit them, others defy them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This includes gender issues, homophobia, and bullying (not physical in the main characters' case). I don't aim to support stereotyping with this, so I hope it's never taken the wrong way.
> 
> While writing it, I think of the parts as scenes, not chapters, so the length will vary but most are not too long.

It had certainly been a fun but tiring dance session at Marina's house. After taking a cold shower to wash away the layer of dried sweat that covered his skin, Frank put on the small denim shorts and the purple string shirt that he was only allowed to wear at home and ventured into the living room.  
  
His mother and Ray didn't tear their eyes away from the TV screen, but still moved aside from where they were sprawled in the middle of the couch so Frank could sit down.   
  
"Anything good?" he asked, leaning his wet head on his mom's shoulder. The woman glared and pushed him away gently, to which Frank scowled. "Hey! I'm cooling you down and only asking for some mother love in return. Isn't it a fair exchange?"  
  
"I guess so." Linda laughed. "Just don't complain if your hair dries off funny..."  
  
"I don't care, Marina's visiting her grandma so I'm not going anywhere." He resumed his previous position, his mom kissing his forehead and wrapping an arm around him. "So, what are we watching?"  
  
"Just some random show 'bout haunted places," Ray said in a lazy voice, finishing the sentence with a yawn. "It was already on when we caught it, no idea what's called."  
  
Frank rested his legs on the coffee table. "Ok, sounds interesting enough and it's too hot to do anything else." He shrugged.  
  
They had been watching TV mostly in silence for several minutes, with the occasional gasps coming from Linda followed by her sons' snickers. All of a sudden, Frank felt observed. At first he thought the ghost talk on the screen was finally getting to him -he wasn't as brave as he pretended to be; but after a while trying to ignore the feeling he finally checked around.  
  
There was no one looking at _him,_ at least not that he could see. But when he followed his mom's eyes he realized they weren't on the TV; they were focused on his stretched legs.  
  
"Oh, fuck..." He had some idea of what that could be about, yet asked, "Uh...what are you looking at, mom?"  
  
"Frankie... _you shaved your legs?"_ She frowned. The question automatically got Ray's attention, who covered his mouth to suppress a snort.  
  
"I...uh...no?" Frank tried, sitting Indian-style as if to semi-hide the evidence.  
  
Linda ran a hand through her son's knee. "I don't see or feel any hair."  
  
"No, because...I've always just had very soft, light hair, you...you just can't see it in this light, that's it," he improvised, deep inside knowing that lie wouldn't work with his family. It's not like they had never seen his legs before.  
  
"They were hairy until last week, though," Ray chimed in. "Sure, your feminine hormones are probably too high for you to grow thick, manly hair, but it was definitely visible when you tackled me and _kneeled down on my chest_ to get the game controller back."  
  
"Thanks Ray, you're of great help," Frank hissed, head on his lap. When he dared look up, his mother was watching him with a mix of concern and tiredness.  
  
"Frank, sweetheart, you know I try to be understanding and I let you do whatever makes you happy as long as I think you're safe. But you keep doing some things that just...confuse me. I've been reading about it on the Internet and I know I've asked you many times, but really, if you want to be a girl I..."  
  
"...and I've told you I don't, because it's the truth," Frank interrupted firmly. "I don't. I'm a boy, I'm myself. I don't want to be anything different, mom."  
  
"Why would you shave your legs, then?" Linda went on, her prejudices getting the best of her once again.  
  
"Mom...leave him be, they're his legs," Ray mumbled. "It's not like he's hurting anyone by shaving..."  
  
"He might be hurting _himself_ indirectly, Ray! You know I don't tell him these things to make him feel bad, I'm just terrified of what might happen to him in the street, for God's sake. He just...makes himself more and more obvious, I-"  
  
"But you've both been through this too many times, it's like you're scolding him for stuff he can't help."  
  
"Ray, I don't need you defending me." Frank pushed himself off the couch and stood in front of his brother with a hand on his hip. "Not if you're going to forget everything once we're back in school on Monday. Oh, I bet you're anxious to tell your amoeba-brained friends how your 'sister' shaves her legs now!"  
  
"You're _still_ calling your brother that in front of your friends, Raymond?" Linda looked at her first born disappointedly.  
  
Frank had to laugh. Did their mother really think it'd stop just because she made Ray promise? "Yes he does."  
  
"RAY!"  
  
"I just...I've explained how things are, they..." Ray stammered, guilt unconceivable in his small, disquiet eyes. "You know I don't mean it, Frankie."  
  
"Yes I know. I know you love me, Ray," Frank spoke softer now; his voice slightly faltering but still not breaking. Eyes shining but no tears falling. "I just wish you weren't afraid to show it outside of these four walls. Wish you stood up for me there like you just did here. Otherwise they're empty words."  
  
"Frankie, I can't..."  
  
"Fuck you, Ray. Just...fuck _you_ ," Frank spat angrily, sitting on the floor with a frustrated sigh.  
  
"Frank, language!" Linda exclaimed.  
  
"Whatever, you can continue to stand up for your perfect, masculine kid," the boy replied with a dismissive hand gesture.  
  
"I'm not, Frankie. You know I don't approve of Ray's attitude, baby..."  
  
"Don't baby-me," Frank whispered, staring at his bare feet.  
  
"You _are_ my baby, though, and I love you."  
  
Upon hearing those words, Frank snapped out of his sulking state and took a deep breath, smiling faintly afterwards. "I only shaved my legs because I don't like body hair, I like them more like this. Same way as I wear certain clothes not because I want to be a girl, but simply because I like them, or because they're comfortable, or because I like how I look in them. Or...all of the above. I have no intention of getting boobs, chopping my dick off or changing my name to Francesca. Not everything must have a deeper reason behind, you know? Gender roles can suck it."  
  
Linda fought the urge to reprimand his youngest child again, getting on her knees and hugging him instead. "I'm sorry, Frankie. I try, baby, I try."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two scenes shouldn't really go together, because it makes it seem like it's all on the same day and it isn't (imagine them at least two days apart). They're just too short to post separately.

Frank got to school very early that day, since his dad was expected to show up at work for an out-of-schedule meeting by the time when they'd usually be leaving the house. His mom was busy, and he'd tried to no avail to convince her of letting him walk or take the bus. Ray always got rides from a friend, so going with him wasn't an option.  
  
Therefore he had been basically pushed out of the house and into his dad's car forty five minutes earlier than usual, half-asleep and without any breakfast. He had been lucky to have packed his make-up the night before, although he would have forgotten to apply it if his dad hadn't asked five blocks before arriving. The man knew him very well and had an infinite patience.  
  
What Frank did forget -much to his dismay- was his iPod. It had been boring enough to sit on a bench of the school field in silence for more than half an hour until anyone appeared. Now it was either waiting for near the same amount of time for the bell to ring, or put his classic plan into action. It was a no-brainer.  
  
He considered that the guys from his class had had enough the previous week and needed a break; so he walked towards the spot where his brother's friends hanged out. Only three of them had arrived. While two sat against the old oak tree laughing at something on a magazine, the third leaned on the filthy gym wall smoking.  
  
"Hi, Bob!" Frank greeted him cheerily, imitating the blond boy's pose.

"Fuck off," Bob mumbled around his cigarette. Always so _charming_. But that's precisely why Frank found him funnier to approach.  
  
"Did you hear that the Souls will be playing somewhere downtown next month? _Dude_ , I want to see them so bad. If only my mom wasn't constantly fearing that I'm gonna get beaten up..."  
  
"She's right to think so, just look at you."  
  
"But, you know?" Frank went on, ignoring the other's remarks. "I think I'm going to go anyway, behind their backs, just...come up with some excuse. Are you going, Bob? Because, if you are, you could do me a favor and get a ticket for me? Pretty please, Bobby?"  
  
"You're such a faggot, Iero," was all Bob had to say.  
  
Frank stopped batting his eyelashes, but his sweet smile didn't yield. "Well yeah, I am, we all know! You already said that last time, though. And the time before, and I think the one before that one too, right? Yeah, pretty sure. Clear. Now, let's stay on topic here, please. Are you gonna see the Souls or not?"  
  
Bob threw his consumed cigarette to the ground, not caring about extinguishing it. His head turned towards Frank and his right hand closed and tensed. Frank glanced down at the menacing fist and smirked, knowing Bob wouldn't hit him. They never did.  
  
"Oh come on, Bobbert! My question wasn't so hard..."  
  
Just when Bob's mouth opened up -most probably to let out some other unfriendly remark, his blue eyes shifted from Frank to something else behind him.  
  
"Oh, fuck. Ray. What took you so long, man?" He rudely walked past Frank, almost making him lose balance as he went to greet the boy's older brother.  
  
"Matt had to stop at the gas station, what's the rush? The bell's not rung yet, has it?" Ray looked at his clock, then gave his kid brother a very quick side glance as to make sure he was alright. "It's not late at all..."  
  
"Fucker," Frank mouthed at him.  
  
"I guess time runs slower when you gotta put up with your sister's stupid babbling." Bob's thumb pointed back at Frank, who smiled to himself as he picked up blue polish off his nails. "Can you make him...her...whatever, understand that I'm not _its_ friend and I'm not going to?  
  
"Bob..." Ray paused, maybe taken aback by his friend calling his brother an 'it'. However, although his look was apologetic, whatever he was feeling didn't reach his lips. "...you know he's a lost cause. Come on, gotta show you something."  
  
"Pretty dense for someone who's supposedly a brainiac," Bob commented as both boys walked away.  
  
"See you later, dear brother!" Frank screamed louder than necessary. "And don't worry, Bobby darling, maybe next time Ray won't interrupt us!"  
  
After texting Marina to report how Ray had ruined his socialization again, Frank collected his customized black backpack and skipped towards the school building. Although he certainly did that in part to show confidence -which he had, it was also true that he enjoyed school. He loved learning and it came easy to him.  
  
"Lighten up, guys, the soul of the party is here!" he announced as he did every Monday, walking down the hall towards the lockers. Most students ignored him, and the rest responded with some irony or simply insulted him. Frank just giggled amusedly while he gathered his books for the day.  
  
******  
  
  
"Let's say I think of this as a...social experiment."  
  
"A social experiment," Mikey repeated. Gerard knew that frown. His younger brother was still trying to figure out what he meant. He'd asked Gerard for some help to understand why he accepted to go to the school their dad had attended. His answer hadn't been of much help.  
  
"Yep, a social experiment," Gerard insisted. He was slumped on the leathered computer chair, head dropped back and eyelids heavy with sleep. It was too early to talk, but Mikey wouldn't leave him alone until he got a satisfying answer.  
  
"Could you, maybe, elaborate? I mean...kids are going to annoy you _so_  much there. They're gonna want to be your friends without even knowing you, 'cause of what they'll _think_ you may be." Mikey shook his head, frustrated. "Borrowed fame sucks, Gee."  
  
"It does," Gerard agreed. "But...what's the difference between that, and being ignored because of what they think you are, what you look like or what they heard about you?"  
  
"That never happened to you, though."  
  
"I know, Mikey, but it happens to many. And then, one day, someone looks past all those preconceptions and finds an awesome person and friend -or not, but they gave them a chance which is important. The same way, some of those kids will eventually get to know me and realize I'm not as cool as they thought. Others will maybe find out that I can be cool even if I'm not what they expected," Gerard explained animatedly -fully awake now, getting his brother's attention but not his agreement. The worry in his eyes told him so.  
  
"You could come to the same school as me and make friends the usual way. Real friends, for what you are?" the younger suggested.  
  
"That would be too normal, I've done it before. The long, typical way. But this... Social experiment, remember?"  
  
"Yeah, you said it one hundred times already, and I still don't know what you mean."  
  
"Well, you know I like to observe people..." Gerard thought over his worlds carefully as he spun on his chair, not sure himself how to explicate his idea.  
  
"Creeper," Mikey mumbled.  
  
His brother chuckled. "I'm not a creeper, I don't...follow them around. I just pay attention, _real_ attention to what everybody says, the tone of their voice, their facial expressions. How different people react to a same situation."  
  
"Still sounds slightly creepy to me."  
  
"Whatever," the older shrugged. "It's going to be a lot of fun watching those guys act according to what they expect me to be, based on what they know. I bet I'll soon be able to recognize the disinterested ones, then we'll see what the rest will do when I disappoint them."  
  
"You're not gonna tell them right away?" Mikey questioned.  
  
"Only if they proved me wrong and didn't jump on me like flies to shit, which I doubt," the other replied, sighing when he saw the concern still present on the young boy's face. "Stop worrying, Mikes. For once I won't have to put any effort into making friends, I'll have some fun and on top of that...dad's happy that one of us is going to that school!"  
  
"You're just a weirdo," Mikey concluded, walking away. "Good luck, though."  
  
"Same for you, bro!" Gerard shouted. Walking to the mirror he stared for a moment, pondering whether he should do something about his bed hair. "Nah, I like it."


	3. Chapter 3

Gerard was extremely thankful that the new school was just a couple of blocks away from his house. Not only could he now save the money he used to spend on gas, but it also meant his dad had no excuse for wanting to go with him. He had tried, though. He had even offered to give Gerard a guided tour once the "just to make sure you get there fine on your first day" plan failed. The boy had gently declined. His dad could visit his old school and feel worshiped whenever he wanted...just as long as Gerard wasn't there when he did.  
  
The building was significantly smaller than the public school Gerard had transfered from, however older. There wasn't anything particularly attractive about it. It was painted an odd, blueish light gray, and the rugosity of the walls was evidence of the many layers of paint there probably were under the current one. There was a lot of glass, too. Big windows -some almost reaching the floor- and a huge double-glassed door. Gerard was surprised to not find any crack; those wouldn't have last lasted much where he came from. Then again, classes had only started about two months ago.  
  
Still not ready to step ahead into the groups of boys, Gerard let his eyes land on the sign above the door, on the emblem he had seen everywhere at home since he was a kid. Luckily, the school had gotten rid of the awful uniforms his father worn back in the day. Only some black blazers with the famous emblem on survived. If Gerard had understood that part right, they weren't obliged to wear them unless there was an important event.  
  
He couldn't see much of the sports field from where he was standing, but he did see the decaying arch made of wood over the entrance of the path leading to it. Once red and golden letters commemorated a twenty-three-year old triumph. A memory he would be unwillingly refreshing. He already had, no doubt, even before setting foot into the school grounds. News ran fast.  
  
As soon as he abandoned the shadows and walked towards what seemed to be the main gathering spot, he found himself instantly surrounded . He cursed internally, then quickly remembered his purpose.   
  
"A social experiment," he repeated in his mind as self-reassurance.  
  
"You're Donald Way's son, right?" he heard. The question didn't come from one boy, it did from many. Only the phrasing differed from one another.   
  
The introduction had started exactly as bad as Gerard had been expecting. Those boys weren't excited to meet a new student. They were somehow competing to ensure themselves a friend position that would give them importance, make them popular.  
  
"Uh, yeah. I'm Gerard." He smiled faintly, looking around to make it a general answer. He wasn't even sure he'd spoken loud enough -he could hardly hear himself among all the voices, but assumed he had when he received several "Please to meet you" and got lots of names thrown at him in return.  
  
Gerard nodded and tried to pay attention, connecting as many names to the respective faces as it was possible. Matt, Steve, two Brians, Bob, Adam, Brandon, James, Ray, Mike, Keenan, John...those were the ones he could see. Many others were behind them, trying to make their way through the crowd. It didn't look like those right in front of Gerard would allow it, though.  
  
"Do you play football?"  
  
"I bet you're pretty good, uh? You _have_ to!"  
  
"What school did you go to before?"  
  
"Tell us about your father?"  
  
"Does your dad have stuff from those times at home? Can we see?"  
  
As the questions kept on coming, Gerard attempted to answer them all without really saying much. Monosyllables, nods, shrugs. He didn't exactly lie, neither did he tell the whole truth or elaborate. He got the feeling that most of those guys didn't even care about getting actual answers. The situation was pathetic, but that was what made it amusing to him. He could have sworn there was even someone up the tree, spying him paparazzi-style.  
  
When some of the students eventually gave up on getting to Gerard and left, the chatter slowed down and he was able to have something closer to a short conversation with the remaining ones. It was too soon for a definitive verdict, of course; but judging by that first exchange of words and their attitudes, Gerard could take some guesses. The most blatant popularity-seekers seemed to be tough-looking Matt and the blond Brian. Ray -the one with the crazy curls, he mentally noted- and Mike -contrasting shaved head, gave him a more genuine vibe. He didn't have a clear opinion about the rest yet.  
  
The bell rang then and the group dissipated, leaving Gerard with only five potential ass kissers walking with him towards the building.  
  
"...oh, and one important advice," the bigger blond -not Brian...was it Bob?- said, patting his back confidently, "for your own good, stay away from the little fag that was up the tree. You saw it, right?"  
  
"Uh... _it_? I saw _someone_ ," Gerard replied, already not liking where that was going. He hadn't seen whoever was up the tree's face and he didn't care. "Why should I avoid him?"  
  
"Just do it, you'll thank me."  
  
Gerard didn't bother to answer. He wished he could just confess the truth to Bob and then tell him to fuck off; but that would ruin his plans and the future fun. No, he had to wait.


	4. Chapter 4

When Frank's phone vibrated in his pocket during the last break, he didn't need to look at the screen to know who was calling. It was the expected consequence to the text message he'd sent during math class, after receiving one himself that made him happy.  
  
"Hi, mommy!" he chirped innocently, flipping off Matt through the glass door. He was obviously imitating him for his friends' amusement out there. "You needed something?"  
  
"Frank...don't play fool with me," came Linda's aggravated voice through the speaker.  
  
"I'm not, mom. Why are you mad?"  
  
"Do you consider 'Don't come for me, Marina will,' valid information? I'm coming, Frank."  
  
"No! Seriously, mom, not necessary. Marina's getting out early and will come for me."  
  
"Oh yes, 'cause a girl your age will keep you away from danger! How safe!"  
  
"I don't _need_ to be kept away from danger, we'll be perfectly fine. It's just eight blocks, come on!"  
  
"Frank, I don't think..."  
  
"Mom, _please_. Give me some freedom, will you?" Frank pleaded.  
  
There must have been the right amount or urgency in Frank's voice, because Linda finally sighed loudly -a sound Frank knew very well as the sound of defeat. He did a little victory dance, ignoring the amused look the new guy gave him before entering a classroom two doors from where Frank stood.  
  
"Okay, okay. Just for today. But if you're not home in thirty minutes after school ends, I'm going for you."  
  
"Deal! Bye mom, love you!" he voiced quickly as he walked towards his last class.  
  
*****  
  
Just like most days, hardly anyone else was inside the building by the time Frank reached the doors. He always told his mom that he didn't feel safe leaving the school together with all the students who advanced like scared cattle. He knew Linda's overprotective nature would believe that and approve of Frank's decision. Marina, however, knew better.  
  
The tall girl was standing against the fence, arms crossed over her practically flat chest and appearing annoyed. But just like she knew about Frank's lies, Frank knew that she could never get mad at him.  
  
She rolled her eyes. "You're such a slow-ass diva, Frankie. You know that, right?"  
  
"Sowry! Leading a double life is hard, so hard..." Frank answered dramatically, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead.  
  
"Oh, poor you." Marina laughed. "We only have twenty minutes now, though."  
  
"Enough. Uh, first...I'm sweating like a pig." Frank quickly discharged the short-sleeved t-shirt he was wearing and stuffed it in his backpack, revealing a black spaghetti-strapped one below. "Ready. Let's get going, I'll tell you all while we walk."  
  
"Wait!" Marina stopped him by grabbing his elbow. She then pushed his face up, licked her thumb and carefully ran it along his bottom eyelid. "Quiet...done. The eyeliner was still too visible, _even_ after all the time you took in there."  
  
"Eww...but thanks!" Frank said as they both started moving again. "I just don't want to irritate my eyes by rubbing too much, you know?"  
  
"You could always stop wearing make up to school, it'd spare you of this problem. It's not like you _need_ it, you baby-skinned fucker."  
  
"I just like it. You could not straighten your hair before school, would give you more time to sleep."  
  
"I like it more straight, though. My curls suck," the ginger replied, then realized she'd lost the argument. "Yeah, I know, you win. Tell me about this new guy..."  
  
"Gerard. I think he's the son of some...'famous' ex-student. Or something."  
  
Marina smacked Frank's head. "Or something."  
  
"Ouch, bitch! Why?!"  
  
"That doesn't tell me much, Frank. Famous for _what_?"  
  
"Uh...some school sport shit? Not sure." Frank shrugged, still rubbing the back of his head.  
  
"How can you not be sure when everybody's been talking about it? Jeez, kid, you fail hard at gossiping. You..." Marina made a pause as they walked past a group of twenty-somethings that were whistling and shouting things at them. She quickly took Frank's place, pushing him to the opposite side of the sidewalk, and whispered, "Ignore, I guess they think you're a girl too."  
  
"Ugh, pedos," Frank growled once they were out of the guys' range. "With this chest I'd have to be like...eleven. And you're not much better."  
  
"They'll grow. At least I don't have the _height_ of an eleven-year old," Marina replied dryly.   
  
Her lack of breasts was a touchy subject, and Frank felt bad for picking on her. "I'll grow. Maybe?" He laughed, hoping to lighten up the moment.*  
  
"Maybe! So, you were about to tell me _how come_ you're not sure what that Gerard guy's dad is famous for."  
  
"Told you. I think football, but I hate football or...most sports, really, so I couldn't care less. And it's not like I'm close to many people at school!" he snapped.  
  
"Okay, okay, calm down. Go on."  
  
"So...as soon as Gerard arrived, about ninety percent of the kids surrounded him. I got on a tree to watch. It was so fucking disgusting, Mar. Like...it was so obvious it was out of interest. When are they _ever_ that nice to new students? Ne-fucking-ver!"  
  
"Idiots. And what did the guy do?" she questioned.  
  
"He didn't seem to be talking much, mostly just looked amused."  
  
"Amused as in, 'I'm better than you all, fools'?"  
  
"No, no. More like..." Frank gestured desperately, trying to come up with the right words. "...genuinely amused with the situation, like he found the way everybody was acting interesting. Seemed to be trying hard to listen to all of them, nodding a lot."  
  
"Does he look like a football player?"  
  
"Mmm...not exactly. I mean, he's slightly chubby but rather small, and I didn't see any muscles. Although," he rethought his reply, feeling like a moron, "not all football players are big. So who knows! I just didn't get a football-player vibe from him, but then again...not my area."  
  
Marina grinned, and the boy knew what was coming. "Is he hot?"  
  
Frank thought about it for some seconds. He hadn't paid attention to that detail. "Uh? I dunno? I don't spend my time looking at guys that way, that's _you_."  
  
"Yeah right, 'cause you look at girls."  
  
"Don't be stupid, Mar. You know what I mean! I'm not looking for a boyfriend, I'm just interested in friends. Thank you very much."  
  
"Oh well, my gut feeling tells me that Gerard's a stuck up, anyway," she declared.  
  
"I'll find out and then tell you. I didn't have a chance to get close to him today, but I will tomorrow somehow. He's my new target!" Frank announced with a smirk.  
  
"Good luck with that, you could fail harder than ever..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating fast for a while until the fic catches up with another two sites. So just in case, don't just check the last chapter posted, 'cause you might have missed some other!

By the time Frank and Marina got to Frank's house, they had changed the subject and were talking animatedly about funny Youtube videos. As the boy turned his back on his friend to lock the door, he didn't notice that she suddenly stopped participating in the conversation. Or that his mom was right behind him; light brown hair in a tight pony tail and a red apron on. He didn't see the exasperated look on her face or the silly smile Marina was giving her to try and soften her mood.  
  
"Oh! And did you see the one where this girl tries to sin-" Frank stopped mid sentence, grinning and waving in what he thought was a cute way. "Hi, mommy!"  
  
"Frank..." Linda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. There was a moment of silence that she broke again as soon as her son opened his mouth. "No, don't even _dare_ ask me why I'm mad. You know."  
  
"The shirt."  
  
"Yes, the shirt. Haven't we agreed that you wouldn't wear these kind of clothes out of the house?"  
  
"It was too hot, I'm sorry," Frank said. "I...I sweated a lot the whole day at school with the short-sleeved shirt, it's just so...closed. You know, the collar? So since we'd walk, I took it off. No big deal, mom, I'm fine, nothing happened."  
  
"Stop saying it's not a big deal." Linda grabbed her head, pacing the living room. "It _could_ be and then it'd be late to regret it. Where are you getting more of those shirts, by the way? I know you talked your dad into buying you the purple one at the mall..."  
  
"I..."  
  
"Frank Iero. Don't tell me you've been sneaking out of the house to go buy girl clothes." She placed a finger under her son's chin, forcing him to look into her eyes.  
  
Frank opened his wide, shaking his head slowly. "No...no I swear, mom."  
  
"Uh...Linda?" Marina interrupted for the first time. She had remained sat on the armrest of the couch. Frank's mother didn't like anyone contradicting her on certain subjects. Especially not a fifteen-year old. "You know when we went downtown with my mom a week ago? Frankie saw those shirts and loved them, said they had an awesome fit. He refused to buy one, though! So a few days after that I told my mom to do it, and I gave it to Frankie as a present for helping me with math. Sorry..."  
  
"Marina...I know Frankie's been your best friend since forever and you love him. I know you just want to see him happy, but you shouldn't encourage him on this, kid."  
  
"Mom, don't..."  
  
"I'm talking to her, Frank," Linda shut him up.  
  
"But Linda, I don't think it'd be good for Frankie to..." Marina attempted to expose her opinion, but Linda's face said she was choosing the wrong words.  
  
"I'm his _mother_ , I know what's good for him. I'm trying to protect him and you should help me. You should talk to him, he'll listen to you. Lately he's been...rebelling too much. He keeps doing things that will only catch people's attention more. On top of what he wears, he shaved his legs! And now he walks back from school practically fully dressed in girls clothes in spite of all the times I told him not to."  
  
"Let the kid wear whatever he wants, Linda, he's old enough to decide," her husband threw in as he walked past them. He didn't even stop to look at her as he continued towards the kitchen.  
  
"You hush, Tony!" Linda demanded loudly. "We got to this point in big part because of how you spoil him and let him do whatever he wants. You and your stupid hippie philosophy. You think you're doing something good for the boy? I wanna see what you'll say the day something terrible happens to him. You can't ignore all the violence and intolerance in this world. You've seen what happens to kids like Frank, yet you-"  
  
"MOM! Stop it, dad's not to blame, don't fight!" Frank whined, accepting Marina's embrace and clutching to her.  
  
"We're not fighting, Frank," Linda corrected. "You father needs to face reality for once. He goes against everything I say!"  
  
At that moment, Anthony emerged from the kitchen with a can of Coke in his hand. He stood in the middle of the room, surveying the scene with a tired expression.  
  
"Oh, there you are! I know you heard me, don't ignore me!" Linda barked.  
  
Anthony rolled his eyes and puffed, opting for silence. It was what always worked best with his wife, and Frank knew he also didn't like to argue in front of him if it could be avoided.  
  
He moved to where Frank was still hidden in Marina's arms and ruffled his hair, whispering in his ear, "I think you look pretty," before kissing his head and walking away.  
  
"I don't understand how your father can think problems are going to disappear if he ignores them, seriously, I-"  
  
"Mom, it's okay. I won't wear this shirt or any similar one out of the house, I promise," Frank interrupted, eyes on the floor. He then sniffed loudly and took Marina's hand. "Come on Mar, let's go to my room."  
  
Linda felt his chest tighten all of a sudden. She rushed along the short corridor and up the wooden stairs, intercepting the two teenagers in the middle of it and standing in front of them.  
  
Startled, Frank looked up, and the pressure in Linda's chest turned into sharp pain. Frank was crying; thick tears ran down his small face while fresh ones emerged. He hiccuped, seeming ashamed, and Linda couldn't suppress a sob. Her son almost never cried, it was a real rare occurrence. It had a lot to do with the fact that he generally was a very happy boy. He had a positive attitude and didn't easily let anything or anyone bring him down. But he was also stubborn, Linda knew that. She was aware of the huge effort he'd often make to stop the tears from falling. He didn't want to be seen as a crying baby. If Frank was crying now, it meant that she had made him extremely upset. She had hurt him, distressed him. How could she? How could she do that to her sweet little boy?  
  
"Oh God baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to argue with your dad in front of you, I just...got carried away." She cried with him, cupping his face and trying to catch the tears with her thumbs. It was futile, though, since he started to cry harder, as if he was finally letting out everything he had been repressing. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Frankie, I didn't..."  
  
"I'm s-sorry, mom," Frank mumbled, arms hanging limp by his sides. He hated to give his parents trouble, even if it was never on purpose. He was glad his dad had escaped the argument, otherwise he'd be feeling even guiltier than he already did seeing his mother cry.  
  
"No, no..." Linda hugged him tightly, smiling to herself when she felt her waist being circled back. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. It's all my fault, sweety, all my fault. But I love you, Frankie. No matter how mad I might sometimes seem, never forget that. Okay?"  
  
"I know, I l-love you too."  
  
After letting Frank cry for a while, she made him apart to be able to look into his big wet eyes. "Son...I won't repeat everything I said down there. You've heard it millions of times and I hope deep inside that you understand me..."  
  
"Mom, I..."  
  
"Let me finish, please." She caressed Frank's long hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. "I want you to know that I don't mind you being gay. I know I don't say it as often as I should, but I'm proud of you on _so_ many levels. I'll always support you, and I want you to trust me. Like...even if you...uh...need to talk about boys? Or..."  
  
"Moooom!" Frank punched her arm playfully, then used that same hand to wipe away his tears. "I don't like anyone! I never have, so technically, I can't say whether I'm gay, straight, bi or an alien."  
  
"Oh, come on!" she pushed. "I know you at least like some actors? Musicians?"  
  
Frank just snorted at that. "I love you and I trust you, and I do understand why you're so worried. You know I do. But I _need_ to express myself the way I feel it, I need to be...me. I'll be careful, but you can't keep me inside forever or escort me everywhere."  
  
"But what if-"  
  
"A little bit of freedom mom, _please_. At least once a week for now?" Frank proposed, hopeful. When Linda didn't reply, he squeezed Marina's hand in search of back up.  
  
"Pleeeeease, Linda! Only once a week and I'll make sure he reports to you every half an hour!" she tried. Frank grunted, not liking her suggestion.  
  
"Ok, Frankie." Linda sighed. She didn't think it was a good idea, but knew her son was right; he needed some independence. "You can go out with Marina alone _once_ a week. But only for two hours and you text me every twenty minutes so I know you're safe."  
  
"WHAT?" Frank let out horrified. Reporting every thirty minutes sounded bad enough -he'd make sure to get Marina back for that, but twenty? "Twenty, really?"  
  
"That or nothing."  
  
"Uh...deal, I guess. Can we go to my room now?"  
  
"Go ahead, kids. I'll bring you something to eat in a while, alright?" Linda offered.  
  
"Awesome, I'm hungry!" Marina replied with a hand on her belly.  
  
"Me too, thanks mom!" Frank assented from the top of the stairs, before disappearing into his room.

 


	6. Chapter 6

It was the middle of Gerard's second day at the school and he was already exhausted. His tiredness, however, had nothing to do with the classes, but the constant small crowd that followed him everywhere. He missed spending some time on his own, and the only relatively quiet moments were the actual classes. Only relatively, because James Dewees sat by him in most, and he was a real chatter box. Gerard couldn't complain, though; James was a nice boy. In spite of being in the team, he spoke about anything _but_ football. He didn't seem to be one of the opportunists, and Gerard was curious about how he had beaten Matt in the race to sit next to him. His only theory so far was that Matt maybe feared James. He would have to pay more attention to them to figure out _why_.  
  
During lunch break, the over-passionated sport talk done by Bob, Brian and Matt became too much for Gerard. He _could_ play football and had enough knowledge about famous players thanks to the obligatory lessons he got from his father while growing up. He enjoyed a game with friends once in a while, but that was it. As a conversation subject, football bored the shit out of him. He didn't care about it.  
  
Swallowing the last bit of his turkey sandwich, he decided to flee.  
  
"Guys, need to go to the bathroom, be right back," he lied, turning his back on them. He stopped when he heard footsteps behind him. "Bob, why are you following me?"  
  
"Uh...I dunno, so we can chat while you're there?" the other stammered.  
  
"I'd rather not while I'm shitting, dude!" Gerard grinned, hoping to compensate for the annoyed tone he couldn't help employing.  
  
"Oh, ok. I don't wanna smell your crap anyway!" Bob replied, returning to his friends.  
  
Gerard knew he didn't have much time. Once he was sure no one could see him, he ran towards the outdoors bathroom. Instead of getting in, he walked around the corner to the opposite side of the small edification, to where the room that stored maintenance tools was. He took a seat on the cement doorstep and rested his back on the cold metallic door, just breathing. Enjoying the solitude.  
  
The sudden lack of daylight through his lids made Gerard open his eyes, but -maybe fearing to see Bob again- he first looked down. Purple Converse with silver cords? Well, those didn't belong to Bob or any of his other 'stalkers', he was certain. Yet, he'd seen them before somewhere...  
  
"The tree," Gerard's brain supplied. "The kid who was up the tree yesterday."  
  
"Hi, I'm Frank!" came a cheery voice from above, and a small hand with blue nails was shoved in front of his face.  
  
"Uh...Gerard," he replied dumbfounded, shaking the hand as he looked up to see who it belonged to. It was the short kid that was performing a weird, funny dance while talking on the phone the day before.  
  
Frank chuckled. "I kind of already knew that. Everybody's been talking about you!"  
  
"Oh, yeah...I guess. But, why are you here? Did you follow me or...?" Gerard didn't want to sound rude, he was just a little paranoid and confused. He knew it was wrong to assume things about a person based on the way they looked and acted, but he couldn't picture that delicate boy as a football player. He couldn't be, with his sparkly sneakers and matching purple t-shirt, his girl-cut blue jeans and pink belt. His hands were too soft, his childish face didn't show any bruises or a single scratch. His wavy brown hair looked clean and shiny. There was a feminine pitch in Frank's voice and he was generally tiny, looking not older than thirteen. He didn't even strike him as someone who would _watch_ football.  
  
Frank had simply seized the moment and gone after Gerard, but hadn't really thought of how he would justify showing up like that. Now, he was conscious that any excuse would sound ridiculous. "I...yeah, I basically followed you..." he started unsure, wrinkling his nose comically. "Sorry."  
  
Gerard thought Frank looked like a bunny. Funny kid. "You did?"  
  
"Yeah, but...it's just that I saw you'd finally gotten rid of your...'escort'," Frank quoted with his fingers, "and thought it was a good moment to introduce myself. Just talk to you, you know?"  
  
Gerard raised his eyebrows. "My _escort_?" His intuition told him Frank was a very interesting person, someone he may enjoy having around no matter what Bob said about him.  
  
"Yeah. Don't they make you feel like some sort of celebrity?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
Frank sat down on the grass and went on, "I'm telling you this 'cause I know you just met them, so it's not like you're gonna be offended that I'm insulting your friends or something. Well, I don't think so. And you did run away from them, didn't you?" He knew he was talking too much, but deep inside he was afraid that if he gave Gerard time to say more, he'd tell him the same everybody did and walk away. Although, if he didn't shut up, Gerard would probably walk away without saying anything at all.  
  
To his surprise, Gerard was laughing. Not a mocking laughter, but an authentic amused one. "Oh, I did! _Oh. My. God_ , I couldn't stand those guys anymore. If I'd stayed there one more second, I'm sure I'd have made them eat their food trays so they'd shut the fuck up about football!" he said, still chuckling.  
  
Frank was taken aback. This was the reaction he was always looking for, every time he'd put his socializing plan into action. But he now realized he had stopped expecting it to work long ago. He couldn't let Gerard know, though. He didn't want him to think he was a stupid little loser; to notice that he had made him happy by just normally replying instead of ignoring or insulting him.  
  
"But...uh...don't you play football yourself?" Frank questioned, kind of confused now that he had gotten over the astonishment. Didn't all football players like to talk about it? Well, except for James. James talked about food, bizarre TV shows and UFOs most of the time. It was a pity that he was too influenced by the other guys, otherwise they could be good friends.  
  
"I do, I love football," Gerard quickly said, not wanting to disclose the truth yet. Even if he was pretty sure Frank had nothing to do with the sport, he didn't know who he was friends with. "But it's not my life. I like to play it -that's what sports are for in my opinion, not talk about it."  
  
"Oh, great!" Frank clapped his hands, grinning. "Cause I'd be screwed if we were to talk about that."  
  
"You're safe with me." Gerard looked up, getting distracted by another boy approaching him.  
  
"Uh...could you move? I need to get something from there." He gestured between Gerard and the door urgently.  
  
Gerard shrugged and obeyed, joining Frank on the ground instead. "What manners..."  
  
"I know!"  
  
"Tell me, Frank, are you in any of my classes? I don't remember seeing you..." Gerard resumed the conversation.  
  
"Nah, I'm only in 10th grade. But thanks for pretending to think I'm older, I know I don't look it and you're just being nice."  
  
"You're in 10th grade because you _wan_ t to," the newcomer, who was struggling with a bunch of keys, meddled.  
  
"Shut up, Brendon," Frank snapped.  
  
"Whatever." The mentioned one finally got into the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
Gerard was curious. "What did he mean?"  
  
"Uh...fuck. I..."  
  
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to..."  
  
"It's just...I don't like _that_ to be the first thing someone finds out about me. I'm..." Frank wanted to strangle Brendon. He didn't understand why he had to be such an annoying ass.  
  
"You're younger," Gerard seemed to affirm more than ask.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're younger than you're supposed to for a 10th grader. Is that it?" he explained his assumption.  
  
"First you ask me if I'm in any of your classes -when you're two years ahead of me, and now you tell me I don't even look like a 10th grader?" Frank laughed now, even though he was dreading the subject.  
  
"I'm sorry, didn't mean to offend you."  
  
"It's okay, many people don't believe I'm fifteen, actually. No, that's not it, I'm in the right grade. What happens is that I...uh...could be in a _higher_ one if I wanted to. There." He spoke the last part rapidly, wanting to get it over with. He fidgeted and avoided Gerard's gaze, picking at pieces of grass while he awaited the question he knew would come.  
  
"You're one of those kids with like...an abnormally high I.Q or something?"  
  
"I wouldn't say 'abnormally', I'm no Einstein. But, yeah...something like that. Can we change the subject please? It's just not important to me. That's also why I've always refused to jump grades. I don't give a fuck that I could. I like school and I want to go through it like all kids my age do. I have no interest in going to college before time and being surrounded by people who's ten years older than me or more. No thanks, I'm a teenager and I like my life this way," Frank concluded with a shrug.  
  
If Gerard had suspected that Frank was an interesting person before, he now had the certainty. He was completely different to any teen he'd ever met. He sounded like an adult for moments, but at the same time the thoughts he expressed agreed with his age; same as his attitude and gestures.  
  
"I think you did the right thing, I don't understand how anyone can be so desperate to grow up and have an adult life. No, dude, that's where the real problems start. I see what my parents deal with and freak out just thinking this is my last year of high school."  
  
"Gotta say I'm glad I'm only fifteen! How about we talk about music instead?" Frank suggested. He found it hard to tame the gigantic smile that threatened to split the corners of his lips. He had made a friend. He had managed to finally make a friend. Gerard was treating him like an equal and hadn't made any remark about him being girly. It was a first.  
  
"OK! Bands. I've always been more of a heavy metal guy -my favorite band is Iron Maiden, but lately...oh fuck!" Gerard cut himself off upon hearing the bell.  
  
"I guess we'll have to leave the music talk for some other moment." Frank pouted. "If I start now, I won't be able to stop."  
  
"Same! Let's go, then." Gerard got up and offered his hand to Frank, pulling him off the ground. "Hey, is that guy Brendon still in there?"  
  
"Yeah, he always comes up with excuses to get the keys of that room so he can hide from the guys that harass him. He'll come out in a while, when he's sure everybody's inside."  
  
"Oh..."  
  
*******  
  
As the two boys got into the building, still side by side and chatting, Gerard spotted Bob eying him disapprovingly.  
  
"Man, Gerard, what are you doing with that pansy? Don't tell me I didn't warn you..."  
  
"I'm very sure Gerard's old enough to decide who he talks to, Bobby. Don't be jealous, I won't forget about you, you know I love you!" Frank kissed Bob's cheek before running away while screaming, "Please to meet you, Gerard, talk to you later!"  
  
"THAT'S IT! I WILL KICK YOUR ASS, IERO!" Bob yelled back, but instantly calmed down when he saw Ray standing next to him. "Jeez, sorry Toro, but your fucking sister just _kissed_ me!"


	7. Chapter 7

It'd been a week since Frank had first talked to Gerard, and he felt like he could already call him a friend. Gerard was a strange but nice guy who could remember dialogs from comics to the letter and quickly read people by their gestures and attitudes. That last detail had seemed a little intimidating at first, but Frank assumed if Gerard was still around after all those days, that had to mean he liked hanging out with him.  
  
They'd discovered that they had a lot in common, and they never lacked conversation subjects. Gerard had only recently started getting into punk, so Frank -being a specialist in that genre- kept suggesting bands that he should check. He had even burned him a CD with the "awesomest, most essential songs that it's _vital_ for you to hear to be officially initiated into punkery". Even though Gerard had still to remember -"Write it down, Way, write it the fuck down!"- Frank had asked him to do the same for him with heavy metal bands. The younger boy might have had his preferences, but he was open to all kinds of music and gave everything a chance. He loved music in general and was always interested in broadening his collection.  
  
Gerard had been insisting that Frank join them when he was with the other guys -some of them weren't bad at all, he had learned. Frank didn't really talk about it, but Gerard was aware of how much he wanted to make friends, how hard he tried while shrugging off the shit he got in return. He thought that maybe, if he was present too and with the guys knowing Frank was his friend, they would refrain from insulting him. That the kid would have a better chance and they would get to know him for real. However, Frank had come up with excuses so far.  
  
Frank _wanted_ to tag along, he wanted the opportunity that Gerard's presence offered, but he couldn't make up his mind and just _do it_. He kept postponing it, saying he had some texting to do or some homework to check. It was one thing to get each of those guys alone; he could deal with that and even have fun with it. Walking up to all of them in the middle of their usual football conversations was a different matter. It was intimidating, and it's not like his brother being part of the group had ever helped much.  
  
Therefore, for the moment, the two boys hanged out by themselves during part of the lunch breaks and other few moments in between classes. Their favorite place was the one where they'd met; it was like an oasis among all the noise.  
  
********  
  
Frank finished his salad and looked over to the granite table to his right to see if Gerard was ready, waving to catch his attention. The other, who was in company of Ray and Brandon, eventually saw him and smiled.  
  
"Just a couple of minutes!"  
  
"Okay!" Frank called back. He decided to go wait for him in their chosen spot.  
  
When he got close enough to the usually quiet place, it sounded anything but peaceful. He could hear voices and laughter. Someone was screaming as something kept colliding against a metal surface.  
  
Rushing his steps, Frank surveyed the scene. Matt had Brendon's neck in a firm grip, banging his head on the door that led to the bathrooms. Behind Matt stood John and Steve as if they were his bodyguards, the three of them continuously spitting all kind of insults to the frightened younger boy's face. Brendon's hair was disheveled and his nose was bleeding. He was crying out for them to stop, but his pleas only caused them to laugh louder.  
  
"What are you still doing here, fag? Why didn't you follow your little boyfriend?" snarled Matt, kneeing Brendon in the groin.  
  
The victim screamed, but after a few seconds composed himself, glaring at his attacker. "You won't...make me leave, I'll graduate here you l-like it or not!"  
  
"Well...you have three years ahead, do you think you'll survive?" John snickered.  
  
Frank couldn't stand it anymore. Using the fact that the bullies were too entertained to notice him to his advantage, he ran towards Matt and kicked him as high as his short leg reached. The impact combined with the surprise factor made Matt release Brendon, giving Frank time to sneak in between them. He spread his legs to stand firmer and wrapped a hand around one of the iron bars of the near window, looking at the three boys in front of him defyingly.  
  
"Move, Iero. Not your business," Matt growled.  
  
"No. _You_ fuck off, leave him alone," Frank said with faked conviction.  
  
"Leave him alone!" Steve mocked in a high-pitched voice. "Oh, shut the fuck up, dwarf princess, move your pansy little ass and go play dolls."  
  
"Fuck. Off," Frank repeated, eyes fixed on Matt's. The bigger boy seized him by the shoulders and tried to moved him away, but Frank strengthened his hold on the bar, ignoring the pain in his fingers. No sound came from Brendon except for his labored breath.  
  
"Let's go..." John whispered in Matt's ear, followed by something Frank couldn't fully hear but surely included the words "next time."  
  
Thankfully, Matt agreed. He released Frank without even glancing at him again, but instead at Brendon.  
  
"You'll change your mind, Urie, you'll change your mind."  
  
They left after that, laughing obnoxiously. It was only then that Frank noticed someone else standing there as quiet as a statue, incredulous huge eyes meeting his.  
  
"What the...?" Gerard forgot what he was going to say as he saw Brendon slid his body out from behind Frank and run away, not for a second looking back. "Are you okay, Frankie?"  
  
"Yeah," Frank replied, letting himself fall to the floor on his knees and sitting back on his heels. He flexed his fingers, wincing until the soreness disappeared.  
  
"Did Brendon even _thank you_? You just saved his fucking ass!"  
  
"He never thanks me. He hates me 'cause those assholes don't hurt me like they do him."  
  
"And...why don't they?" Gerard had been able to hear some of what those guys were saying to Brendon. He had an idea of what their -stupid, retrograde- problem with him was. So it didn't make much sense for them to not only leave Frank alone, but also apparently abort their bullying session because Frank said so.  
  
Frank raised an eyebrow accusatively and Gerard got the hint right away, suddenly aware of how wrong his question had sounded.   
  
Frank had to refrain from laughing when he saw the worried look on his friend's face.  
  
"Oh...no!!" Gerard said. "I...of course I don't think they _should_ hit you! I just...I mean, pretty sure I know why they do this to Brendon and to some other kids I've seen them bully. And you would, I guess, fit their kind of target? I...fuck, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, I just don't know how to explain myself, you're a fucking awesome kid, I..."  
  
"Gerard. It's ok, I know what you mean, calm down!" Frank laughed light-heartedly, patting the ground to invite Gerard to sit down. "Yes, I do fit their kind of target, that's what angers Brendon."  
  
"Do they respect you because you're Ray's brother?" the other questioned. He couldn't think of any other reason.  
  
"Oh, no. One of the other kids is Brandon and Adam's brother. Do you think they care? They're only careful not to do anything in front of them. Urie still believes that's the reason, though. So did I for a while. I'd assumed it _had_ to be that."  
  
"Oh...and what's the truth, then?" Gerard went on, unable to figure out any other possibility.  
  
"Well, I once asked Ray, mostly 'cause I wanted him to do something for the other boys too, since he could stop his stupid friends from beating _me_. He laughed and said he had nothing to do with it. He knew they'd do whatever they wanted behind his back no matter what he asked them. I kept pressing for an answer and he wouldn't tell me, which of course only made me insist more. He finally said that they don't touch me because they _see me as a girl_ , and they wouldn't lay a hand on a girl." Frank rolled his eyes.  
  
"Uh, I don't even know what to say, honestly." Gerard frowned. "And how do you feel about it?"  
  
"Honestly? Just weird. Like...on one hand I guess I should be happy? But I'm not, because it's not nice to see other kids go through all that shit while I'm safe. I'm not saying I want them to beat me up too, I'd stand no fucking chance if they did. But it's not fair that I'm spared of it for such a ridiculous reason. I'm no different than the other boys they beat up. No matter how much I may look like one or even dress like one sometimes, I'm not exactly a girl. So...I don't know, it doesn't make much sense, but I feel kinda...guilty? And I wish I could do something. I don't want a special treatment, I want _everybody_ to be respected and safe at school. Fuck..." Frank sighed, picking up a rock and throwing it away with fury.  
  
Gerard gave Frank the most instant comfort he could offer, hugging him tightly and rubbing his back. "I understand, I swear I do. Those assholes would have probably found a reason to beat me up too by now if I wasn't my dad's son. I'll see what I can do, I'll talk to them..."  
  
"It won't work, Gerard, they hear no one."  
  
"Just let me try, you saw what a bunch of ass kissers they are."  
  
"Yeah but still, if they ignore Ray..." Frank pointed out.  
  
"But I'm not Ray. I'm Gerard Way, son of the school's champion!" He grinned.  
  
Frank snorted. "O-kay, you arrogant bastard, let's see what you can do."


	8. Chapter 8

Truth is, Gerard didn't believe that a week of knowing Matt gave him enough confidence to attempt to opine about his behavior. Nor did it give him much hope that Matt and his friends would take his petition into consideration. But he thought they might at least listen and wouldn't dare snap at him. They wouldn't risk losing Gerard's "friendship" so soon, would they? It was worth a try and it couldn't wait much; kids were being hurt for no reason.   
  
The impotence in Frank's eyes, seeing that cheerful kid suddenly so upset even though he was spared of the bullying himself, had made Gerard want to help actively. He had never been bullied either -not physically at least, but he had seen it happen a lot at his previous school. Back then, he had been unable to do much about it except for informing some teacher, which was only a momentary solution. This time, Gerard was inside the problematic group. Maybe his social experiment could turn into a more righteous cause, after all.   
  
Gerard's priority was to talk to Matt, yet making sure the rest of the bullies would be around to hear. He hadn't found the right opportunity in between classes, but the team had after-class practice that day. The only other time he'd been to one of those so far, the guys hadn't seemed to be in a hurry afterwards, so waiting until then sounded like his best chance.  
  
Now, Gerard liked nature, he liked being outside...to relax. He, however, hated that they had to have _football practice_ outside, and in the middle of that weird Fall heat wave. He was sure that he would melt soon. Then again, he supposed that having a bunch of boys run around inside a gym, throwing a football and tackling each other, probably wouldn't go over well.  
  
Gerard took his position in the line of defense, wondering why he was even playing football. Besides wanting to talk to Matt, he really didn't have any interest in being there after school. He could have faked being sick or having somewhere else to go, but it was important that he fit in with the group. Make them think he was one of them.  
  
He watched Matt catch the ball, gearing up to throw the pass. Gerard was right there. There was a clear space between him and Matt. He could sack him and let his team have the ball. But...well, he didn't feel like it. He pretended he was busy trying to tackle someone else instead, halfheartedly.  
  
The game went on and as Gerard watched the guys he barely knew play, he noticed that they did exactly like they acted in real life.  
  
For example, Bob was rude for the sake of it. He tackled people he didn't need to, like he just wanted to blow some steam. James would start staring off into space at random moments in the game, as if he could actually see aliens or flying saucers in the sky. Needles to say, he was yelled at all the time. John dedicated each minute to praise everything Matt did and seemed to only play with him. Steve didn't appear as devoted, yet his moves were a nearly exact copy of Matt's.  
  
Matt himself was arrogant, always acting like he was the best damn thing to grace the field with his presence. He belittled others. Except, of course, when he pretended that Gerard was actually doing well in the plays they were executing.  
  
Gerard knew that was a lie. It was too hard to concentrate when his mind wasn't in the sport at all. It didn't help that this time he was extra distracted trying to come up with a way to approach Matt. However, the guys hadn't commented on his doubtful performance so far. They were probably so convinced that he was great that they'd remain in denial for a while. Just in case, Gerard had casually expressed how hard it was to get used to a new team.  
  
He was sick of it all, didn't want to be there. But, he _had_ to stay; if only to continue his social experiment.  
  
Gerard smiled convincingly at everyone at the end of the practice, practically running over to his bag and grabbing a bottle of water.  
  
As they all sat on the bleachers to cool down before going home, Gerard talked to James and Keenan briefly about the practice, what a prick the math teacher was, and the last UFO sighting -that was James.   
  
While his mind was half on the conversation, his eyes were on Matt and his closest friends, waiting for the moment. He could see the leader's lips moving now and then, but his head wasn't turned towards his partners; he was staring to the front instead.   
  
If one just looked at Matt's face without really _seeing_ -Gerard thought, they'd say he was menacing, even mean-looking. You could think he didn't deem any of the people around him good enough. Gerard, on the other hand, saw a hint of a secret truth in Matt's eyes. Something he obviously tried to hide but didn't fool a good observer. He couldn't exactly guess what, but it was something that hurt. There's usually something behind a violent behavior, and this boy wasn't the exception. Nevertheless, he was still dangerous.  
  
The other guys were a different matter. The blond Brian and Steve were rather cocky and strived for attention, but Gerard didn't perceive anything deeper than a love for power -which could be bad anyway. John was a simple follower, always desperate to impress Matt. Bob was a short-tempered asshole, repeating insults that didn't even sound sincere and he couldn't reasonably justify when asked. The rest, including Gerard now, were just _there_. They hanged out with the most problematic group and functioned like friends, yet didn't appear to share many of their opinions and ideas. When they didn't like where a conversation was going, they'd subtly evade it or simply walk away. Just like during games, they didn't argue.  
  
"Sorry guys...I need to talk to Matt 'bout something," Gerard excused himself.  
  
He went down a few steps to reach the tough boy on the bottom one, quickly deciding that sitting down on the floor was a better idea than standing in front of him. If Matt thought he was trying to intimidate him from the start, things could end up badly.  
  
Having already caught the other's attention, Gerard started, "Can I ask you a question?"   
  
"Shoot."  
  
"Why do you beat up those kids?" Direct, to the point. There was no other way to address it.  
  
"'Cause...they're fags? We don't like fags here." Matt shrugged before drinking from his water bottle.   
  
Hearing him say "we" when it was obvious that only a few agreed was nerve-racking enough, but Gerard kept his composure, just listening.   
  
Matt went on. "Why do you care, anyway? We've never touched your new little friend. Are you a fag, too?"  
  
"I'm a human being, just like them," Gerard replied. That guy didn't deserve any more concrete answer. "I don't like to see _anyone_ being hurt, even less for no fucking reason. But what if I was? What if any of us here was gay?"  
  
"What the fuck? Speak for yourself, Way. Matt knows us well," Brian chimed in, deliberately blowing smoke in Gerard's direction.  
  
"Yeah, he knows I'm no damn queen," Steve added.  
  
Matt continued to stare at Gerard, smirking. "Are you?"  
  
"What does it matter? Anyone could be, no matter what they say. Anyone could be keeping it to themselves to save their asses from you. Have you thought of that?" Gerard pressed on. He liked the effect he was having in Matt. No matter how much he tried to hide it, Gerard was making him think, doubt. Matt looked nervous. It was evident that no one had ever dared question him like that.  
  
"We have no fucking reason to lie, what the _fuck_ is your problem?" Steve intervened again.  
  
Brian gathered his stuff and got up, mumbling that he had better things to do with his girl. "Make sure he understands, he's a smart boy," he told Matt.  
  
"You two need to speak less, gimme a fuckin' headache," Matt dismissed his friends. "Way. I don't give a fuck what's inside your heads as long as it stays there and I don't have to know it, see it or hear about any of you tainting the school's name in public. Urie and his...boyfriend, for example, couldn't keep their hands to themselves. They had it coming. At least the other queer was smart enough to leave..."  
  
"My father went to this school, and you all know he wasn't just one more student." Gerard didn't even try to make his fake smile look real. He hoped that bringing his dad into the conversation would get him some points and keep the other boy calm. "Well, _he_ was the one who taught me to accept people the way they are, to never judge or insult them for being different or thinking differently to me. So don't fucking tell me what you do has anything to do with the school. You're not defending the school's honor, at least admit it's your own issue."  
  
He could tell that part of Matt looked ready to kill, indignant with the tone he was using and dying to tell him how much he was annoying him with his speech. His other half, though, kept remembering him who Gerard's dad was.  
  
"What if it is? I'm not the only one who wants them out."  
  
"So you're gonna beat those kids up until they ask their parents to get them out of the school," Gerard summarized, wishing for Matt to become conscious of how terrible it sounded.  
  
"Brian was right, you're smart!"  
  
It was hard for Gerard not to punch him in nose then, even if he knew he could never win a fight. "Not sure I can say the same about you, Matty. What are you gonna do if they don't leave? Kill them? Dude, I barely know you, so I have no idea why you feel the need to hurt those kids. But take this as an advice from a friend: stop. What you do doesn't make you look tough or important. They fear you, but they don't _respect_ you. Makes you look like a brainless idiot..."  
  
Matt grabbed Gerard by his jacket collar, forcing him to stand on his knees and dragging him closer to his face. "I'm no fucking idiot."  
  
"Never said you were," Gerard pushed the other's hand away, getting off the floor, "but you certainly look like one if you're not able to just ignore whoever you don't like and let them be. Think about it. I'm not trying to fight you."  
  
With that, Gerard walked back to where his bag was, threw it over his shoulder and left without any other word.


	9. Chapter 9

Frank was already there when Gerard got to school the next day. He was sitting Indian style on the grass in the middle of a crowd of students, yet immersed in his own little world. Gerard only saw him because he got curious about who was bawling the lyrics to True Believers. It should have been obvious.  
  
As he got closer, Frank didn't stop. He was smiling with his eyes closed and headbanging slightly as he yelled along to the song.  
  
Gerard touched his shoulder. "Frankie?" He jumped when the kid shrieked loudly and ripped his earbuds off.  
  
"Fuck, Gerard...almost killed me!"  
  
Probably not exactly coincidentally, the blond Brian walked by them and turned to Frank. "Saw a mouse, lady?" he said sarcastically. "Although...you'd have probably scared it away first with your awful screaming."  
  
"Nope. I have visions, you know? And I just saw your ugly tiny dick in one." Frank faked a shudder. "Do not want."  
  
"There you got your answer." Gerard snickered. "Now...would you mind, Brian? I was going to talk to Frank here."  
  
Brian rolled his eyes and walked away, looking like he was literally biting his tongue not to retort. Gerard was starting to enjoy the ridiculous power he seemed to have over those boys. He didn't need to be overly nice to them if he didn't feel it. He could even get away with speaking his mind to some extent and pass it as a joke; most of them would still swallow their anger. He wouldn't be usually proud of taking advantage of his borrowed fame -Mikey would scowl at him for it, but some people in that school deserved it.  
  
"Sorry for scaring you," Gerard told Frank, trying not to laugh as he kept thinking of his _singing_. "I had to get your attention somehow since you weren't gonna hear me..."  
  
The other covered his face and let out a muffled, "Was I too bad?"  
  
"Just a _little bit_ out of tune, happens to everybody when singing with headphones on."  
  
"Oh...okay, then." Frank shrugged. He then got up, placing a hand on Gerard's back. "Let's get out of the gossip area."  
  
"Yeah, good idea, have something to tell you."  
  
"What is- Oh! It's _good_ , judging by that smirk. You met a girl, or boy or...whatever!" The younger kid guessed, bouncing a little as they headed for the school building.  
  
Gerard was a little overwhelmed by Frank's energy, and confused by his assumptions. "What? Nah, I didn't meet anyone. Jeez, how can you be so bouncy at this hour in the morning?"  
  
"I eat lots sugary goods for breakfast," Frank replied happily. "So...what's it that you gotta tell me, then?"  
  
"You know I said I'd talk to the guys 'bout what they do to some kids?"  
  
"Yeah..." Frank's enthusiasm seemed to suddenly fade.  
  
Gerard frowned at that, but continued, "Well, I talked to Matt yesterday after the practice. Can you believe he fucking tried to use the school's honor as an excuse? Then he admitted it's a personal issue of him and he wants to make those kids leave the school..."  
  
"Fucking asshole."  
  
"Yeah. I swear I just wanted to punch him in the face, but then I'd be no better than him, would I? Also, I can't turn into his enemy so soon. But I did tell him what I think, and made sure to mention my dad and how he was against the kind of shit he and his friends do." Gerard smiled proudly, searching for Frank's complicity, but he wasn't looking at him. He couldn't even tell if Frank was listening until he spoke again.  
  
"Uh...and what did he say? I can imagine he didn't like it one bit."  
  
"Oh, no. He was furious! Picture his face when I told him his attitude only made him look like an idiot and no one respected him..."  
  
"You did _what_? And you're in one piece?" Frank stopped Gerard right before the lockers and appeared to be analyzing his face. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"  
  
"No no, don't worry. I think he was about to, at one moment -even though I said I was just giving him advice. But I didn't show any fear, just told him to think about it and then walked away. I'll tell you something, though: he paid attention to me, I made him think. I have a feeling things will be peaceful for a while at least."  
  
Frank wasn't saying anything, but after Gerard's last sentence he'd started to shake his head slowly, lifting his eyes off the floor and looking at him with certain sadness.   
  
"Sorry to ruin your hopes, but Matt didn't even take one day off. Saw him cornering Alex a while before you arrived," he broke the news. He hadn't wanted to, after seeing Gerard's excitement and hearing about how brave he had been. But he couldn't hide it and let him think his plan had worked so easily. Frank had known it wouldn't be easy from the start.  
  
"Fuck! But...isn't Alex Brian's friend?" Gerard asked confused. He still had trouble with names, so maybe he had gotten that one wrong. The Alex he was thinking of wasn't part of the football team, but still hanged out with them all the time. He was also taller and stronger looking than Matt.  
  
"Oh...no, not _that_ Alex. That one could probably kick the shit outta Matt's ass. I mean the one in my year. Small eyes, messy black hair, almost as short as me?" Frank explicated with venom in his voice at the thought of how tiny Alex had looked next to Matt and his bodyguards. How scared.  
  
"Ahh, yeah, I think I know."  
  
"He's such a quiet kid, barely speaks in class. From what I heard, they caught him smiling a lot while texting a boy, so they added him to the 'list'. Thankfully, Mrs. Gomez appeared right away today, so they didn't get to hurt him. Matt came up with some excuse, though, and Alex went along with the lie out of fear."  
  
"Did you tell Gomez the truth afterwards?" Gerard hated the teachers' usual lack of commitment when those kind of things happened. To think they actually believed all the lies the students told was unrealistic, and it seemed to be the same in all schools.  
  
"I was going to, but my brother saw me and figured out what I was about to do. He ordered me to stay away from trouble, then escorted me out where he could watch me. That's when I gave all those fuckers the show you saw -or heard- as punishment." Frank grinned, back to his usual self. Seeing that Gerard look confused by his change of mood, he added, "Don't worry, I'll talk to Gomez as soon as I can escape Ray's vigilance. It never helps much, though."  
  
Gerard got a glimpse of Ray keeping an eye on Frank from afar, and nodded knowingly. "We gotta keep trying to stop those guys. If teachers won't do much, then we will. Let's insist."  
  
"How...what do you mean? We...?"  
  
"You need to join in with me, Frankie. Just...hang out with us. If we're both inside their group we can work together."  
  
Frank sighed, unrolling and twisting the too-long sleeves of his denim jacket nervously. "Gerard...you know they don't want me there."  
  
"So? You'll be with me, you're my friend and they kiss my ass all the time. It's safe. Aren't you always trying to get some of them to know you?" Gerard pointed out.  
  
"I...in some cases I just want to annoy them, but a few of those guys are actually pretty cool."  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
"I'd like to be their friend, if they only _let me_ ," Frank said tiredly.  
  
Gerard took notice of how the tone of Frank's voice got much lower when he was tired or sad. While that happened to most people, it was a bigger contrast in Frank's case compared to his usual higher pitch, which was very close to that of girls. It got even higher when he was excited and, while stupid kids mocked Frank for it, it made him more captivating to Gerard. He was so...uplifting.  
  
"I mean," the younger one resumed, interrupting Gerard's thoughts, "that's why I don't give up, I want them to give me a fucking chance at least."  
  
"Well, _this_ is your chance! Have lunch with me and the football team? I'm pretty sure they'll behave while I'm there and will pay attention to you. They'll discover you're awesome."  
  
"You think I am?"  
  
"Of course! So, what do you say?"  
  
"I don't know. All of them together is a little..."  
  
"Pretty please, Frankie? Infiltrate with me?" Gerard insisted, hands together as if he was praying. The bell rang, but he stayed there waiting for an answer, ignoring all the kids that pushed past them.  
  
Frank laughed, the sound drowned by the rushed chatting around them. He raised his voice over the noise. "Okay I'm in, but just because you suddenly made it sound so much cooler. Like a movie."  
  
"You're awesome, told you. See you at lunch!" Gerard waved childishly and disappeared.  
  
Frank needed a moment to take conscience of what he had just agreed to. As scary as the idea was to him, more than one good thing could come out of it. Although he hadn't known Gerard for long, he already trusted him. Way may be kind of an idealist, but had the best intentions. For once, someone was on Frank's side in that place; someone who wanted to fight for the same things as him. A friend, and he wouldn't let him down.  
  
Not wanting to be late to his first class, Frank raced towards the classroom, thanking his modern-jazz dance lessons for keeping him in shape.


	10. Chapter 10

Although Gerard hadn't exactly said that, Frank assumed he would be waiting for him somewhere inside the school and they'd walk to the lunch place together. Well, he couldn't see him anywhere.  
  
"I guess he was being literal when he said he'd see me there, then." He sighed.   
  
Fighting the new doubts the change of plans brought, Frank made his way out of the building and to the lunch area, knowing the guys only ate at the cafeteria when it was _too_ cold to be outside. He saw Gerard standing near one of the tables talking to Alex, but he didn't dare announce himself. Instead, he quietly took his usual place at the farthest table from them.   
  
Frank remembered Marina's comment about how weird it was that he distanced himself from those guys during lunch, while he was usually following them around and talking their ears off. His answer had been that he simply liked to eat in peace. Frank didn't like having his appetitive ruined by bad vibes.  
  
"Frankie!" he heard Gerard's voice. While he was still wondering how his friend had gotten there without him noticing until now, Frank was taken by the wrist and forced to stand up. "What are you doing here? Come on..."  
  
"Gerard...no. I don't think it's..." He tried to resist, but the other was stronger and started to slowly drag him towards the team's table.  
  
"It's gonna be fine, I promise. Act like you want to be there," Gerard whispered.  
  
"Uh...okay." Frank gave up the struggle then. When Gerard released him, he walked close behind him, attempting to look casual.   
  
The first one to see him was his brother, who gave him a questioning look. Frank shrugged, hoping it translated as "Why not?" He knew Ray would interrogate him about it at home, but he wasn't going to let him object now.  
  
It was when Brian stopped them that Frank's nerves really kicked in. The blond wasn't menacing looking; he was Gerard's height and not too big. It was his attitude that could be intimidating.  
  
Brian stood with both hands on his waist, staring at Frank with disdain before moving his blue eyes to Gerard. "Why is the faggot here, Way? He doesn't belong, you know that."  
  
"No, I don't know anything," Gerard retorted. "Alex is not part of the team and he's still always around, just because he's your friend."  
  
"So what? You got a problem?"  
  
"No. But Frank is _my_ friend, so it's the same. He belongs just as much as Alex. And don't you _ever_ call Frank that again, understood?"  
  
Like it had happened before, there must have been something strong in Gerard's look that he didn't even know he could convey. Although Brian didn't seem to exactly care about Gerard's threatening last sentence, he didn't fight back either. He just ignored it. "Alex belongs, he doesn't."  
  
Frank thought it was time to get some words in. He was the problem after all, so he couldn't let Gerard fight his battle alone. Pretending not to know those boys' real reasons for not wanting him there, he purposely played it cool with Brian. "If you're going to say that I'm too young, Mike's my age and he's even part of the team."   
  
Matt stood up and pushed Brian aside before he could reply, facing Gerard and Frank. "You _know_ that's not the problem. _"_ He pointed at the younger.  
  
Frank sighed loudly. "Oh, yeah. I know. I'm a fag, right? Well, don't you worry! You're not gonna catch gay from eating on the same table. Unless you're secretly already gay; then it could work as awakening. The girliness _might_ stick a little though, so beware." He flicked a lock of hair off his forehead and turned around elegantly, intently swaying his hips as he walked away.   
  
Matt got in his way and grabbed him by the arms. "If I was you, I'd watch my words," he spat furiously in Frank's face.  
  
The boy winced but looked Matt in the eyes, not showing his fear. " _You_ watch yours. You didn't buy the fucking table."  
  
"Matt, he's right, _I_ invited him and you have no right to tell him off," Gerard said, trying to pull Matt away from Frank. "Let him the fuck go, you're hurting him!"  
  
Seeing as Matt wouldn't yield, Ray intervened. "Matt you _fucker_ , that's off limits. Let my brother go now!"  
  
Frank was surprised but pleased to hear the anger in Ray's voice.   
  
Matt looked unfazed. "Oh, don't worry, I'm just putting your little sister in her place."  
  
Ray then wrapped an arm around Matt's throat, applying just enough pressure to distract him so that Frank could wriggle out of his grip. "Don't. Touch him."  
  
"Thanks, bro!" Frank smiled, rubbing his arms and fixing his clothes. When he saw Matt approach him again, he placed a hand on his chest. "Hey, hey, hey, big boy! Have some respect for women! You say yourself that I'm one, right? Now, you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. But some of your friends might think differently, you know? So I'm gonna be over here in between James and Gerard..." He tugged at Gerard's sleeve desperately, making him sit on the stone bench after him. "...with my delicious cheese and fake bacon sandwich. No big deal. The sky's not gonna fall and ruin the football field's grass just 'cause I had lunch with you guys. Jeez."  
  
"For fuck's sake, Matt. What is this shit?" Brian said. John, Steven and Bob -who had just gotten there- also began to question Frank's presence while others just stared at the smiling kid in disbelief.  
  
Frank decided to ignore the commotion around him and let them deal with whatever internal conflict they had on their own.   
  
He turned to James, who seemed to be in his own peaceful bubble as he devoured a huge sandwich. Frank had always felt that James _wanted_ to talk to him, but didn't because it went against the unwritten rules of the team. Maybe that would change now if he saw that Frank was sitting there and no one was stopping him.  
  
"Hey, J! Spotted any UFOS lately?"  
  
James looked at Frank and his eyes lightened up. He didn't bother to swallow what was in his mouth before speaking. "Yes! Oh my God, you have to hear this!"  
  
Laughing, Gerard unwrapped his own meal before patting Frank on the back. "Told you it'd be okay."  
  
Once everybody calmed down and actually got to eating -taking notice that they didn't have much time left, things went rather well. Frank ignored all the offensive or straight-out stupid remarks and focused on talking to James, Gerard, Brandon, Mike and Adam. Talking a _lot_. He spoke so fast and changed subjects so often that Gerard had to laugh at the guys' expression as they tried to keep up and get some word in now and then.  
  
But as funny as it was to observe, Gerard remembered that Frank had acted the same way with him the first day. It made him realize just how afraid and nervous the boy was when talking to people. How he couldn't relax until he knew the other person wouldn't insult him or run away. He would probably never admit it, though.  
  
When lunch time was over and they were walking back inside, Gerard addressed the subject with humor, making fun of Frank. He thought that taking it too seriously would only make Frank uncomfortable.  
  
"Seriously Frankie." He chuckled. "You need to slow down. I understand that you wanna make friends, that you want the guys to see you as one of them. But if you continue to _attack_ them with words and barely let them answer, you're just gonna scare them away. And your over-enthusiasm will be the only thing to blame!"  
  
"Fuck. Uh...do I really talk that much?" Frank asked. He had been so tense all the time that he didn't always know what he was doing. Or saying.  
  
"You're like a parrot on speed sometimes, dude."  
  
Frank took a hand to his heart, gasping. "Oh. Well. Bye, then. Gonna be late to my class," he said and left, seemingly offended.  
  
"See you!" Gerard screamed. He knew Frank was pretending. He also knew, or at least felt, that things might work after all. The _infiltration_ part wasn't easy for Frank, but it had gone decently once the first -human- obstacles were dodged. They still needed an actual plan to fight the bullies, but for the moment it was a good idea to simply spend some time with them, get to know them more, find their weaknesses.


	11. Chapter 11

So that's what they did. From then on, Frank had lunch with the team every day, getting better and better at either ignoring any shit thrown at him or answering with something that would convince them of how little he cared; even if it wasn't true. Experience had taught him that the worst thing you could do in front of your enemies was show fear or hurt. That would only feed them and make them stronger. He also didn't want to let them ruin his days.  
  
Frank's days had been really good since he met Gerard. He wasn't unhappy before, not really, but things were much better now. He didn't have to sit around alone anymore. He had Gerard at school and Marina at home so he was never bored.   
  
Linda was very pleased when Frank told her about Gerard. She had been the one who insisted to transfer Frank to an all-boys school years ago, worried about his feminine behavior. She erroneously thought that he maybe just needed to befriend some new boys and hang out with them instead of spending all day with Marina in and out of school. It had obviously never worked, but she refused to see it. She argued with her husband every time he'd side with Frank when he begged to go back to his old school. Frank would then give in and tell her it was okay. He had eventually gotten used to the school -even if he was alone most of the time- and stopped pleading.  
  
Frank's mom was convinced that what she did was the best for her son and he would make friends at some point. She couldn't understand why he hadn't in two years; he was such a nice, funny kid. When this third year started she had once again told herself with certain guiltiness, "This is the one, Frankie will make friends."   
  
That's why she couldn't contain her emotions when Frank had sat on the kitchen counter one night while she was cooking and nonchalantly said, "Forgot to tell you, a couple of days ago I made friends with a new boy. He's two years older and actually thinks I'm cool!"   
  
Linda had dropped the spoon she was holding and hugged Frank with teary eyes, telling him to please feel free to invite his friend over whenever he wanted, or ask her to drive him to wherever he lived. Frank hadn't waited much to take the offer.  
  
Soon, Frank had met Gerard's brother, Mikey. He was Frank's age. Just by looking at him with his tall, frail frame and his glasses, you'd think he was a nerdy, shy kid. However, once he'd started talking, Frank realized Mikey was more outgoing than Gerard. Almost as outgoing as Frank himself, even if Mikey definitely didn't speak as much. He also had a cynical sense of humor and told it like it is. According to Gerard, if you needed a completely honest answer, Mikey was your man.  
  
The three had played video games together a few times and maintained conversations about music and horror movies. Mikey was a cool guy. The problem was the new friends he had made at school, who were similar to the kind of assholes Frank dealt with at his. He hadn't encountered them more than once, and hoped he wouldn't have to again.   
  
Mikey had seemed mortified with their behavior, the shameless way in which they'd laughed at Frank and joked in front of him. He'd taken his two friends by the back of their shirts and said, "I'm really sorry, Frank. These idiots have a lot to learn." Then he had pushed them towards his room, which they never left for as long as Frank was there.   
  
Frank concluded that the Way brothers had been educated very well and he was lucky to know them.  
  
Surprisingly, even though Frank and Gerard had been going to each other's houses for weeks, Gerard and Marina hadn't met each other yet. It had actually been Marina who suggested that Frank kept them both separated for a while. It's not that she had any problem with Frank having a new friend, she was very happy for him. But it had been a while since Frank had spend time with anyone other than her, so she thought he needed to socialize with Gerard on his own for a while.   
  
Frank had felt guilty every time she told Marina that he couldn't hang with her because he'd be going to Gerard's or vice versa, but she had assured him that she didn't mind. She only demanded Saturdays besides any other day of the week Frank chose.  
  
It had been three weeks now, and Frank couldn't wait anymore. He needed to introduce his two friends. He wanted to be able to spend time with both together on occasions. When he told Marina, she thought he could have waited a little longer, but respected his decision.  
  
After debating about what would be better, Marina had asked Frank to bring Gerard along to her house when back from school the next day.   
  
Linda refused to directly drop them there, telling them they should eat some of the cake she had baked first. So the two teens made her believe they agreed, only to walk out of the door five minutes later once they'd left their school stuff and stolen four portions of cake.  
  
Marina's mom greeted them kindly, giving both a hug and a kiss on their cheeks. She seemed nearly as excited as Frank's own mother to meet his new friend. Having known him since he was a baby, she loved Frank as if he was her son.  
  
"Oh, I'll leave these in the kitchen." She took the plate off Frank's hands. "You go find Marina, she must be in her room on the computer."  
  
Frank signaled for Gerard to follow him and took them through a corridor, where he peeped into a couple of rooms to make sure Marina wasn't there. They got to a closed door at the end, with red glittery letters on it that read "GTFO."  
  
"Maaaar! Be presentable, darling, guy alert!" Frank sing-sang against it.  
  
Gerard didn't hear any answer, but Frank opened the door nevertheless, jumping on the girl as soon as he was in and making her fall backwards on the blue-covered bed.  
  
"Hello to you too, Frankie," Marina's slightly raspy voice said with resignation.  
  
All Gerard was able to discern was a coppery pony tail and a pair of long legs clad in black jeans and red Converse boots. The rest of her was blocked by Frank's body, who was giggling as she tried to push him away.  
  
"Get OFF! What's your friend gonna think?" With a last, harder shove Frank ended up on the floor, still laughing. Marina got up, fixed her hair and walked to Gerard. She offered a hand to him with a solemn expression. "Hi, I'm Marina."  
  
Gerard had to admit that he was a little intimidated. Not only by the girl's sudden seriousness, but also by her height. He looked up at the deep green eyes set on him and swallowed. "Uh...I'm Gerard, please to meet you."  
  
Frank observed the scene with amusement, guessing what was going through Gerard's mind. "She's one tall fucker, uh?" he said.  
  
"Shut up, Frank. I'm _normal_ , you're both too short," Marina replied. She had released Gerard's hand, but hadn't loosened her scrutinizing stare.  
  
"We _might_ be kind of short, but you're definitely too tall for fifteen."  
  
"You're _fifteen_?" Gerard exclaimed. "Frank never said how old you were, so I was now thinking at least my age..."  
  
"Nope," she replied shortly. "So, Gerard, you're seventeen..."  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"...and a football player."  
  
Frank knew where that was going. Marina had doubted Gerard since the first time he mentioned him. He had managed to somewhat change her mind along those last weeks, but not completely. "Mar, I told you he isn't like-"  
  
"I know what I'm doing, Frankie. I need to be sure he's good for you." She spoke in a tired but affectionate tone. Almost maternal, Gerard thought.  
  
Frank snorted. "Gerard's my friend, he's not here to ask for my hand in marriage, you know?"  
  
"Friendship is just as important."  
  
"It's okay, ask whatever you need to know." Gerard attempted a smile, wanting to ease the tension. Marina had sweet, childish features that did denote her age, now that he looked past the scowl. But...why was she acting like that? Hadn't Frank told her he was a good guy? Was she jealous?  
  
"Oh. Gerard..." Frank squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I see you're staring, so I must warn you that she's taken, don't waste your time."  
  
"I'm not taken!" she argued.  
  
"Well, okay. Not _yet_ , but you will. From what you told me Bill's totally into you. Come on, it's obvious!"  
  
Marina blushed, running a hand through her face to hide it. "Eh...whatever you say, know-it-all. Now let me talk to your friend here."  
  
Frank wished he had some popcorn as he sat on Marina's desktop chair and watched. It was a funny situation, he decided, to see Gerard so worried and possibly even scared about what a girl two years younger than him had to say. It was the first time something like that happened, though, so he didn't know what Marina had in mind for Gerard. She was always very protective of him, but Frank had only seen her reactions when someone bothered or disrespected him. Never towards someone who simply wanted to be his friend.  
  
Maybe Marina was improvising, after all, because many of the questions seemed pretty random to Frank. Gerard looked just as puzzled as he answered the long oral questionnaire.  
  
"Do you prefer dogs or cats?" she continued.  
  
"Uh...dogs. But, seriously...what does this-?"  
  
"It's a quiz. If I told you why I'm asking these questions, you wouldn't be sincere."  
  
Gerard looked at Frank, as if asking for help. "I'm starting to think she's a child prodigy like you."  
  
Frank frowned. "I'm no child prodigy."  
  
"He kinda is," Marina said, laughing when Frank stuck out his tongue at her. "Me...I just have practical intelligence. So, a few more. What color do you identify yourself with the most?"  
  
"Mmm...black, I guess."  
  
"Black's not a color, it's the lack of hue and brightness," Frank corrected matter-of-factly.  
  
"Shut up, Iero, I'm asking the questions and black's a valid answer. Gerard...earbuds or headphones?"  
  
"What the fuck?"  
  
"Answer!"  
  
"Headphones. Are we over yet?" Gerard was starting to wonder what he had gotten himself into. He wanted out.  
  
"Almost." Marina rolled her eyes, only now sitting down on the bed and inviting him to do the same.  
  
Gerard thought that she was, at last, becoming satisfied with his answers -whatever she was getting out of them. But not only did the questions go on, they also got weirder. He kept on answering them as quickly as he could, wishing to be over with the interrogation. When they got to the likes of "Would you rather use your hands, or a weapon?" or "If you were _forced_ to choose a weapon, only one, what would it be?" he felt downright uncomfortable.   
  
When he complained, Marina changed her tactics and began to get more obvious. "Wild night out with all the guys, or quiet night in with a few friends?" was followed by "How do you usually feel towards what's different? Bothered? Interested? Impartial?"  
  
"Listen, Marina." Gerard ignored the last question. "I don't want to do this anymore. You can just be honest with me, I promise I'll be honest too. What do you wanna know? What are you worried about?"  
  
The girl's serious expression faltered as she met Frank's eyes and then looked back at Gerard. "I...I'm sorry. I did know what I was doing with the questions, I swear! It's just...I'm happy that Frank made a new friend, I really am, don't take me wrong. But he hasn't had a-"  
  
"Mar, that doesn't matter now." Frank shook his head.  
  
She understood that Frank didn't want her to mention personal details. "...I mean, you're in the team with those assholes and hang out with them, and then you dragged Frank-"  
  
"He didn't drag me, Mar," Frank interrupted again. Gerard _had_ kind of dragged him the first day, but that was just because he had a last moment of doubt. "It's all part of a plan."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, you already told me that. But how can I be sure?"  
  
Gerard took a moment to think about what Marina was expressing, and he could understand her point. He saw how things could look suspicious from the outside. She must be fearing that Gerard might be on Matt's side and just pretending to be Frank's friend to have fun with him.  
  
Frank didn't seem to share her friend's worries. He had told Gerard that he trusted him and Gerard knew he truly did. However, Gerard felt it was time to clarify something he hadn't even told Frank yet. His little secret would be safe with the two kids.  
  
"Would it help if I told you both that I've been kind of an intruder in the football team myself, from the beginning?" he started.  
  
In view of the expected confused stares he was faced with, Gerard told them about his so-called social experiment; the only reason why he had accepted to go to that school. He explained that he not only hated talking about football -like he had confessed to Frank; he was simply not interested in football at all. He wasn't even good at it, no matter how much the guys fooled themselves just because he was Donald Way's son.  
  
Frank was a little taken aback when finding out Gerard had made him believe that he was a potential football hero like his father all that time. He had successfully convinced him that he loved the sport in spite of not liking most of the team. Hell, Frank had even watched the practice once and couldn't tell Gerard was bad at the sport. Of course, Frank knew nothing about football.  
  
Then, as Gerard elaborated on why he hadn't told him -first because he didn't know who Frank was friends with, and later because he thought it'd be easier to pretend in front of everybody, he understood. He and Marina actually thought Gerard's experiment was pretty interesting. It was fun to think of those idiots as some kind of lab rats for him to study their behavior.  
  
If Gerard hadn't already won Marina's sympathy with that, he definitely did by telling her how he'd practically forgotten about his experiment when he met Frank, and realised that he could use his position for a better cause. All he really wanted to do now was stop the bullies from hurting kids.  
  
The conversation then veered to them trying to come up with ideas for Gerard and Frank to put into action, which didn't prove to be easy.  
  
"Can't your dad do something?" Marina asked Gerard.  
  
"I don't know...he probably would try if I asked him, but I'm not sure it'd work the way we want it to."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I've already told Matt what my dad thinks, how he'd never condone what they do, and he didn't give a fuck."  
  
"But don't you think it'd be different if your dad talked to them?" Frank suggested.  
  
"Honestly? I don't think those guys -or at least Matt- care about my dad as anything else than the school's most famous football player. I will keep dropping his name when needed, but actually _involving_ him should be an emergency resort. It's just...it wouldn't really change their minds, you know what I mean?"  
  
Frank nodded, pensive. "Yeah, like...as much, _if_ it worked at all, they'd stop bullying those kids just 'cause your dad said so."  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"But wouldn't that be good enough if they stopped, no matter why?" Marina questioned. "If it could work...isn't it worth trying?"  
  
Gerard understood why they might be making no sense to her. "Technically, yes, and I'll go for it if we can't come up with anything else. But here's the thing: I'm afraid they'd only stop doing it in the school, so I wouldn't see it and tell my dad. They'd beat the kids somewhere else instead and that would be worse. At least in the school there are more chances of someone seeing and helping them."  
  
"Yeah, I've stopped them a lot of times, or called a teacher," Frank added. "I don't like to think of what they could do somewhere else."  
  
"Maybe they already beat those kids in the street too and they don't tell out of fear, Frank, we don't know," Marina pointed out.  
  
Gerard _had_ thought of it, but what if that wasn't the case and they started doing it because of them involving his dad? "We still can't take that risk. We need to find a way to change those guys' minds, leave them with no reason to want to hurt anyone, anywhere."  
  
"Warned you that he was an idealist," Frank told Marina, grinning. He then got up and paced the room for a while. "Actually, I think changing Matt's mind would be enough."  
  
"I agree," Gerard assented, "the problem is _how_."  
  
"We'll find a way, we will," Marina stated. "For now, you boys keep doing what you're doing. Be around Matt and his friends, listen to their conversations...and keep an eye on them to save those kids' asses when possible."  
  
Not having much more to add to the subject for the moment, they soon left the room and went to eat the cake Frank had brought.   
  
It felt kind of awkward for Gerard to be with two people who had known each other for so long. They did try to integrate him, but as it usually happens in those cases, they got carried away remembering funny situations they lived together or sharing inside jokes. What Gerard did have to admit, is that they were an entertaining pair. While they brought back very random memories, they often made fun of each other and bickered playfully. Whenever one of them would show any sign of real irritation, the other would apologize and they'd hug. It reminded Gerard of his relationship with Mikey. Frank and Marina acted a lot like siblings; it was cute.  
  
******  
  
Gerard saw Marina once during the following week. The three of them went to the movies on Frank's only two hours parent-free, so they didn't have a chance to talk much; but Frank let Gerard know that Marina "gave their friendship her blessing."


	12. Chapter 12

That last week had been a more or less uneventful one. The bullies hadn't seriously hurt anyone as far as Frank knew. There _had_ been a few situations where things seemed bound to get violent, but they were thankfully stopped in time. It was a matter of luck really, yet those poor kids surely appreciated it.   
  
Frank had dealt with the same amount of verbal abuse as always while alone, but he noticed that it went down considerably when Gerard was around. Only a few of the guys still dared talk shit about him during lunch. He was well used to it by now, anyway.  
  
The bell that marked the end of the school day had rang exactly five minutes and thirty seconds ago -Frank verified as he stared at his watch. Like it was usual, the whole class had been ready to escape the room as soon as they were officially discharged. On any other day, Frank would have done the same. He had things to do before he could meet his mother at the door, so he couldn't waste any time. This day, however, was one of the unfortunate exceptions. He couldn't leave. Mrs. Fandi had handed over the essays they had submitted the previous week and, once again, she had purposely skipped Frank so he would be forced to stay after class.   
  
It was a good thing that Frank knew the woman so well. That allowed him to warn Gerard -who would be coming over to his house- that he'd have to wait longer. He hadn't told his mother, though. He never did because then he'd have to tell her _why_ the teacher preferred to talk to him alone, which would give her more reasons to fuss over him and worry. Or she would make a scandal.  
  
While he doodled on a piece of paper to entertain himself, waiting for the teacher to finally address his presence, Frank thought she had no reason to reprobate his essay this time. He had worked harder than ever for days. He could have easily gotten it done in a few hours, but he wanted to be sure it included everything that was expected and more. He had revised it hundreds of times before printing it, adding details here and there and rewording anything that didn't sound well enough. It was perfect, he believed. But deep inside, he knew all that might not help him at all.  
  
"Iero, come over here," Mrs. Fandi called bitterly in her old-smoker voice.   
  
Frank slowly got up and walked towards the teacher's desk, trying to hide the fear in his eyes as he looked at her. "Yeah?"  
  
The woman left the pen she had been writing with over Frank's folder and crossed her arms. She stared the teen up and down, making him squirm uncomfortably under her gaze. "I see you decided to dress accordingly to your sex for my class today. Well...mostly. Good decision, except for the makeup."   
  
Actually, if Frank was wearing an unisex red hoodie, it was only because it was a cold day and he liked said hoodie. It had nothing do with all the times Mrs. Fandi had criticized him or lowered his notes because of the girl clothes he wore. But if he had accidentally pleased her, he wasn't going to argue and correct her.   
  
"Does that mean I'll get the note I deserve? Please, Mrs. Fandi, I worked _really_ hard on it and made sure there wasn't a single typo," he supplicated.   
  
The teacher grimaced, ran a hand through her short curly hair and shook her head. "Maybe when you start speaking like a man," she threw.  
  
That angered Frank far more than the complaints about his hair or the way he dressed. "I'm only fifteen, ma'am. Not technically a man yet," he replied cheekily.  
  
"Well, then at least speak like a boy, because that's what you're supposed to be if you go to this school."  
  
"You can't reprove me because of the way I speak, that's just ridiculous," Frank fought back. There was no point in trying to be polite after what he had heard.  
  
"Yes, I can. If you look like a girl and speak like a girl then you shouldn't be here, since it's a school for _boys_. Therefore, I don't have to approve you. Go home and meditate about it. If you want the note you deserve, come back speaking like a man, or a boy, or whatever word you prefer as long as it's masculine."  
  
" _What_?! I can't change the way I speak!"  
  
"Practice, get rid of that stupid habit, it's certainly not natural. And again, wash your face before my class," Mrs. Fandi retorted.  
  
Just when Frank was thinking of the best comeback to such an ignorant statement, the door flew open and a pissed-off looking Gerard entered the classroom.  
  
The woman contemplated him agape. "Mr. Way, what are those manners? What are you doing here?"  
  
Gerard got closer and rested his open palms on the desk, staring into her eyes. "I was outside waiting for my friend, but I couldn't keep listening to your string of injustices without doing anything."  
  
"It's not your business, Way. Leave right now or I'll make sure you get detention," she threatened, though her voice lacked firmness.  
  
It was evident to Gerard that she didn't intend to, otherwise she would have just done it instead of teasing him. She never faltered when it came to imparting discipline; but just like most of the students, some teachers also treated Gerard differently.  
  
"Yes, it _is_ my business because you, ma'am, are discriminating my friend here. I read that essay, it's _perfect_. I had to do it two years ago so I'd know. It's far better than mine and I got a B+. Frank is one of the best student of this school -if not _the best_. Yet you lower his notes because of the way he dresses, and now you're refusing to approve him because you don't like the way he speaks?"  
  
"Way..."  
  
"No. Let me finish," Gerard cut her off. "What you're doing is not only discriminatory but also ignorant. Do you think Frank just...decided how he wanted to speak and practiced until he liked it enough? Maybe to piss you off too, right? Well, no. This is him. What you see and what you hear. He's not going to feign a different voice or start speaking differently to please you. So you should start giving him the grades he deserve because of his work or..."  
  
"Or what, Way?" Mrs. Fandi sighed, annoyed.   
  
Frank was getting worried for Gerard and himself. He had tried a similar approach with the history teacher in the past, and it hadn't worked; she had some kind of impunity with the principal. He wasn't a bad man, but it was very possible that there was something going on with him and Fandi, because he never seemed to believe the complaints about her. If confronted about unfair grades, he'd just repeat, "I'm pretty sure she has a reason to reprove you."  
  
"Gerard...please leave it, it's no use," he whispered.  
  
Gerard didn't listen, even though he had perceived the security in the teacher's words and expression too. She obviously knew something he didn't, something that gave her the certainty that she wouldn't get in trouble for what she was doing. That was maybe inside the school, but Gerard had other weapons.   
  
"Or...my father, Donald Way, might have to publish an article in the local paper talking about how disappointed he is in his beloved school that he did so much for. He'd have to denounce the discrimination and well, probably give names not to generalize. So, maybe it'd be easier for you to just be fair to Frank." Once he was done and true to his style, Gerard ignored whatever the teacher was saying and took Frank's wrist. "Come on, Frankie, your mom's waiting for us."  
  
"Wait..." Frank stopped in the middle of the corridor and motioned to his face. "Gotta get rid of this real quick."  
  
He took the lead in silence, hurrying towards the bathroom. When they were inside, staring at their own reflections over the line of dark gray sinks, Frank finally spoke. "Thank you." He smiled at his friend in the cracked mirror.  
  
"You don't need to thank me. I...I just had to. I know you're perfectly able to stand up for yourself. I'm sure you must have done it dozens of times before. But I got _so_ pissed off hearing that woman that I swear, Frankie-"   
  
Frank turned to Gerard then, raising a hand to stop him. "I'm not only thanking you for what you did, but also for what you said when you talked about me in there. You... _get it_. Not many do. I'm not even sure my mom does."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Listen...I need to be fast now; my mom must be worried and they're gonna close the school with us inside. I'll explain at my house, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Gerard assented, propping himself against the counter as he watched Frank remove his make-up.  
  
Five minutes later they got to the entrance hall to find Frank's mother talking to a janitor. From what they could hear, he was telling her he didn't think there were any students left in the building. She was beginning to freak out.  
  
"Mom...we're here," Frank announced, preparing for what he knew was coming.  
  
Linda looked at the two boys and sighed relieved, then back at the man she had been talking to. "I _told you_ my kid and his friend were here!" she said, then took rushed steps towards them.  
  
"My God, Frank. You got me so worried! Are you okay?"  
  
"Yes, mom."  
  
"You're not sick, aren't you? Or hurt?" She cupped her son's face with her hands, inspecting it.  
  
"No, mom. Why would I? Told you I'm fine," Frank insisted monotonously.  
  
"I don't know! You weren't coming out and I...I thought something had happened. Just...what took you so long, boy?"  
  
"Uh..." Frank tugged at Gerard's sleeve as inconspicuously as he could, needing assistance to come up with a lie. He wasn't going to tell her about Mrs. Fandi.  
  
"Oh, hello Gerard." Linda seemed to realise he hadn't greeted the dark-haired boy, who stood awkwardly next to Frank. "I'm sorry, it's just not normal for Frank to take _this_ long and I was getting worried."  
  
"No problem, Mrs. Iero." Gerard smiled. Almost _laughed_ upon hearing that Frank's mom was only "getting worried". It had looked more like she was on the verge of a panic attack to him. Frank...he looked desperate, so he assumed the boy didn't want to tell his mother the truth. Thankfully, on-the-moment excuses came easily to Gerard. "I'm the one who has to apologize, anyway. I needed to ask a teacher something after class. It was very simple, so I didn't think it'd take long, but the guy ended up giving me a whole explanation and I thought it would be rude to stop him. I'm sorry."  
  
"It's alright, Gerard. It's not your fault exactly, Frank should have texted me...."  
  
And yes, Frank should have texted his mother, but he had not wanted to. "I know, I forgot."  
  
"You forgot. Just like you forgot to bring a jacket." She shook the padded white coat she'd been holding all that time. "Seriously. You ask for independence and then act like a little kid. Put this on and let's go."  
  
"It's not that cold and we're gonna go in the car anyway," Frank whined, embarrassed. Still, he did as told; otherwise he knew his mom would dress him herself, like a baby.  
  
"It is for someone with such a poor immune system as you. And you know I gotta keep the window open."  
  
"What are you laughing at?" Frank snapped at Gerard as he heard the snickering behind him.  
  
"You just...look adorable all bundled up, like a marshmallow."   
  
"Fuck _you_."  
  
"Frank!" Linda scolded him.  
  
During the car ride, Linda tried to have some conversation with the two teens, but she couldn't get them to emit more than a few monosyllables. Gerard did talk a little more than Frank, who just kept his forehead pressed against the glass, looking at nothing in particular. He hated it when he'd let what people said get to him. He hated that they didn't understand. Gerard did, though, and that thought brought a smile back to his lips. He was the best friend he had ever had apart from Marina. How could he not smile when thinking of them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok...this is now up to date with other sites. It'll probably be updated once a week most of the time (for the moment), although it could be twice if chapters are shorter.


	13. Chapter 13

Excessive warmth welcomed them when they entered the house. After complaining that the heating was set too high for Fall, Frank got rid of his jacket and hoodie and threw them haphazardly on the couch.  
  
"Oh well, perfect excuse to still wear all the shirts I can't wear anywhere else." He shrugged. "Mom...Gerard and I will be in my room, give us at least an hour before bringing food."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"We just have a pending convo."  
  
"Is everything alright?" Linda asked, still thinking something was off about her son.  
  
Frank puffed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, mom, told you everything's fine. I'm just a little tired, that's all."  
  
"Okay, then." She kissed his cheek. "Go."  
  
Once in the room, Frank knocked the plushies off his bed and fell on it unceremoniously; hair spread over the zebra duvet and a content smile on his lips.  
  
Gerard observed him while he took off his own jacket. That house was definitely too hot for Fall. "Comfy?"  
  
"Mmm...I love my bed, it relaxes me in seconds," Frank answered, stretching before scooting over to one side. "Come join me! I like to be lying down while I talk about my life, as if I was doing therapy. However, I don't like the other person to be standing, or sitting down like a therapist. Does that make sense?"  
  
Gerard laughed and lay down next to Frank. "I guess so... Hey! I'd only _sat_ on it the other times, but you're right, this bed is _too_ fucking comfy. I hope I don't fall asleep."  
  
"Best bed _ever_! But you better not fall asleep while I'm telling you about myself or I'll jump on your abdomen. Capisce?"  
  
Frank's threat made Gerard turn to him -face red from containing the laughter- and raise a hand. "Si, si, no violence! Won't sleep, promise. I just wanted to know what you meant when you said I 'get it,' though. You don't have to go into any personal details if you don't-"  
  
"No, I don't mind. It's not like I'll go into much detail or tell you the whole story of my life, but I _want_ you to know something that has to do with how I feel about myself."  
  
"Oh. You mean like...stuff Fandi gives you shit for?" Gerard inquired. It was hard to find the right way to formulate certain questions. He knew there were words that could be offensive to some people even if you didn't use them with any bad intention.  
  
Frank nodded with an understanding smile. "Just...while I talk, you can ask me anything, okay? I know what you're thinking, but you'll never offend me 'cause I know you'd never mean to."  
  
Gerard returned the smile then. "Okay."  
  
"Uh...how to start," Frank doubted. He didn't want to make the story too long, although he knew he would end up speaking a lot either way. It wasn't so much about the memory he was about to share, but what resulted from it. "Until I was...ten or eleven, I had a lot of friends. Boys and girls, mostly from school. Then suddenly...or I guess it wasn't that sudden and I just didn't notice much until it got too obvious, some of my friends started to act weird around me..."  
  
"Weird how?" Gerard asked.  
  
"Like...at first, it was mostly them whispering to each other while looking at me and laughing. Then they'd tell jokes I was never part of and I couldn't understand. Then it was the name-calling. You know, the usual epithets. Pansy, faggot..."  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"The thing is...I didn't know _why_ , I didn't know where it came from. I was barely twelve and pretty innocent. It's not like I wore any girl clothes back then, and I didn't think I'd changed at all. So I couldn't understand why those kids that had been my friends for years were suddenly acting like that." Frank's eyes were fixed on the ceiling as he spoke, his pupils following the glow-in-the-dark stars one by one. He didn't like to let things from the past affect him. He needed some distraction so his mind wouldn't be fully on it. Once he ran out of stars, he surveyed all of his posters.  
  
Even though they weren't looking at each other, Gerard assented. It was more as if to tell himself that he understood that kind of confusion Frank was describing. "It's always so weird -in general- when people react to some change we didn't realise we went through. Like...while we're growing up, some changes are not noticeable to us, but they are to others."  
  
"Yeah! It's like...I live with myself all the time, so how could I notice the small changes?" Frank completed the idea. "But...well, when some of those friends started to drift away, like they didn't want to be associated with me anymore, that's when I felt that I had _the right_ to know. Because I'd tried asking them, but they'd only laugh."  
  
"But what about the rest of them, the ones who didn't make fun of you?"  
  
"Those were the girls of the group, and they just shrugged when I'd ask. Acted like they didn't know."  
  
"Marina too? 'Cause she was in that group, right?" Gerard had only talked to Marina a couple of times, but she didn't seem like someone who would go along with bullshit like that without letting Frank know what was going on. She was very protective of him. Then again, maybe some things were different three years ago?  
  
"Yeah, she was. She's the one I went to for answers, actually. Got her alone and asked her what was wrong with me, what I'd done to make some of our friends laugh at me and then leave. She told me I'd done nothing wrong, but at first she didn't seem to believe that I really didn't know the answer. When I just kept blinking dumbly at her, she knew I was serious." Frank chuckled. Marina had actually described his face to him later.  
  
"And how did she explain it to you? I mean...you were both so young and it wasn't easy..."  
  
"She didn't explain it. Said she didn't know how, so she'd _show me_ instead."  
  
"Show you?"  
  
"Aha. Didn't tell me how, though, said I'd see when it was done."  
  
Gerard frowned, glancing at Frank sideways. "I have no idea what she could've meant."  
  
"Oh, me neither at the moment!" The boy waved around with one hand. "So, like a week after that, we were in my room and she opened her notebook and said she had a video to show me. It'd been one of the few friends I had left's birthday some days ago, and Marina had filmed me during the party. Without me knowing. She hid the camera or something."  
  
"Wow. I think I know where she was going with that..." the older trailed off, once again afraid of using the wrong words.  
  
Frank continued. "She said, 'I'm not sure it'll work. Just take a look, maybe this way you can see what others see. It's nothing bad, though, those kids are idiots.' And I watched it..."  
  
"And did you notice anything?"  
  
"Hell, yes. It was a revelation, I'm not shitting you. I'm not gonna go into details 'cause well...it's just weird to describe myself and you surely can see all I saw in that video. It's probably even more noticeable now." Frank giggled as he remembered a second video he'd requested from Marina a few months ago. To compare. "But my reaction was basically: 'Oh.my.God. I'm like those stereotypical, fictional gay guys on TV, ain't I? Now I get it!' And Marina was like, 'Uh...yeah, kinda.'"  
  
The last thing Gerard intended to do is make fun of Frank; but he couldn't help laughing at the way he narrated some parts, acting out the dialogs and gesturing wildly. "You really had no clue, did you?"  
  
"I was _completely_ clueless." Frank grinned. "Many people think it's an act or like...an exaggeration. Even my mom thought so, she still does for moments. But it's not. It was kind of a shock when I saw myself back then but just because, in my mind, I'd always been the same way. I hadn't changed."  
  
"Didn't it uh...scare you? I mean...don't take me wrong, you didn't discover anything bad. But at that age..."  
  
Frank shook his head. He thought it was sweet how much Gerard hesitated, how respectful he was. "Don't worry, I know what you mean. No, it just...surprised me. But on the other hand, it felt good to finally _understand_. When Marina asked me what I was going to do about it, I said 'nothing'. I wouldn't force myself to be something I wasn't, I had nothing to change. At that moment I realized I liked myself the way I was, and if other people didn't, it was their problem and not mine."  
  
"Those were some very brave thoughts for a twelve-year old. I admire you," Gerard commented, slightly teary-eyed.  
  
Frank blinked rapidly, wishing his own tears to stay in. "Thank you. I'm so glad I didn't get scared that day, that I never felt like hiding anything."  
  
The room went silent then, the two boys sniffing once in a while. It wasn't an awkward silence, they simply needed the pause. Frank was pondering whether there was something else he wanted Gerard to know. Gerard had more questions that had been wandering inside his mind, and it appeared to be a good moment to ask them.  
  
"Just curious..." Having Frank's attention, he took a deep breath and went for it. "When did you start...wearing some girl clothes?"  
  
Frank had known the question was coming, and he didn't mind it at all. It was only logical that Gerard would eventually ask, although he was glad he'd shown no urgency to know as soon as they met. "Oh, I'd always loved to try on my mom's clothes or play with her make-up, since I was four or five..."  
  
"I don't think it's weird at that age, though," Gerard noted. "Pretty sure I did it too."  
  
"I know, I don't think my mom thought much of it back then. It's just that I never stopped. I think I actually did it more often as I grew up. I wouldn't even try to be sneaky. I liked to model the clothes for my family." He laughed at the memories. "Imagine Ray's face!"  
  
"Oh my God..."  
  
"He would tell our mom, 'Does he _know_ he's a boy? You should remind him.' It was fun."  
  
"I bet!"  
  
"I quit for a while when I overheard my mom tell Marina's that she didn't think it was normal anymore for me to play with her clothes at eleven," Frank went on. "But after the _revelation_ that day, I decided that I had to do what I felt. That included wearing whatever clothes I liked, whether they were meant for men or women. Fuck it. I wanted my own clothes, though."  
  
"Your mom's not too happy about it, is she? I heard you say you can only wear these kind of shirts at home..." Gerard pointed at Frank's feminine garment.  
  
"She's mostly afraid of people's reaction in the street, that I could get beaten up or something like that 'cause I'm _too obvious_. I'm pretty sure she still thinks I exaggerate on purpose. Apart from the clothes issue, she's always asking me if I can't try to 'tone it down a little bit.'"  
  
"Tone down what, exactly?"  
  
"I don't know...my girliness? She's completely fine with me being gay, though, even if I've never exactly came out..." Frank stopped when he heard Gerard's muffled giggles and punched him in the shoulder. "Oh, you're so fucking predictable!"  
  
The scolded boy rubbed the spot that had received the impact, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, it's just that...uh..."  
  
"It's obvious?"  
  
"Kinda?" Gerard screwed his eyes shut, waiting for a new punch.  
  
"Well, that's a misconception, really." Frank sounded mildly irritated, but didn't hit him this time. "To think all girly guys and masculine girls are gay, I mean. It _might_ be so in a lot of cases, but not all. Sexuality is a completely separate thing."  
  
"I understand that. I'm really sorry, Frankie. I didn't want to offend you, I just didn't think."  
  
"I'm not mad at you, Gerard. I'm aware that's the general idea most people have, not your fault. It's the lack of correct information that annoys me."  
  
"No, it _is_ my fault too 'cause I could have tried to inform myself more, or think before speaking -laughing, in this case," Gerard admitted, then nearly whispered. "So, you like girls?"  
  
Frank burst out laughing. "Nah, I don't think so. I'm an stereotype all around, baby! Well, I've never been attracted to anyone...realistic, but at least when it comes to musicians and actors, guys have my eyes' exclusivity!"  
  
Gerard sat up, glaring down at Frank with his hands on his hips. "Oh! You made me feel like shit and I was right, just like your mom?"  
  
"Shut up! The fact that I'm gay doesn't change anything!" Frank voiced playfully. He did get Gerard's point and his reaction -even if not completely serious. The way the conversation had gone _did_ make it kind of funny; like he had acted offended when he had no personal reason to. "You were right about _me_ , but you just can't assume automatically, that's the problem. Most people see a very feminine guy and think he's gay. However, what you're seeing could be a girl who was born in a male body but hasn't dared or can't express it physically yet. Like...by wearing fitting clothes or changing her body. And she could like girls anyway. That's only one example, of course. It could also just be a femme straight boy. The point is: a person's...manners or gestures don't necessarily relate to their sexuality. Whether or not their gender agrees with the sex they were born with tells you nothing about their sexuality either. Different things. Is it clear? 'Cause I know I tend to ramble when I talk about certain subjects..."  
  
"Completely clear! Sometimes you don't take conscience of how little you know about something until you make an idiot out of yourself by saying something ignorant." Gerard covered his face with his hands, truly embarrassed. "Fuck."  
  
Frank forced Gerard's hands away and held them, waiting for the boy to look at him. "Gerard. I told you it's alright. You just hadn't given it enough thought, that's all. I'm sorry too if sounded like I was snapping at you. You can ask me whatever else you need to know."  
  
"Okay. Uh...I do want to ask you something, but it's more...personal. I...fuck. I know you told me I wouldn't offend you but-"  
  
"And I meant it, shoot."  
  
Gerard remained uncertain. Maybe he was going too far. Maybe one month wasn't long enough for him to ask so many questions. But as Frank's friend, there were things he wanted to know to make sure he was treating him correctly. "You...you know the example you just gave? The first one."  
  
"Yeah? Come on, tell me. It's okay."  
  
"Is that...your case?"  
  
"You mean...if I'm a girl who was born in a boy's body?"  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Oh...no. Not exactly. I mean, I've never felt like I was born in the wrong body, that's something I'm pretty sure about. There's nothing I want to change physically. But...I don't know. When my family asks, I've always said that I don't want to be a girl, that I'm fine being a boy. And that's mostly correct except...I'm not that sure I consider myself a boy either. Male pronouns are fine, it's what I'm used to and it doesn't feel weird. But I wouldn't mind someone using feminine ones as long as they don't mean it as an insult like the assholes at school. I know it'll maybe make no sense to you but it's like...mentally, I'm both girl and boy. Or none. I don't even know." Frank shrugged unconcernedly.  
  
"Maybe what they call 'genderqueer'?"  
  
"Maybe? I really don't have a word for myself. Not sure I want one."  
  
"I think you're a Frankie Iero," Gerard said earnestly, looking Frank in the eye. "Yep. That's what you are. Frankie Ieros are awesome beings, I heard."  
  
"Oh. I like that. I think it will be my answer the next time someone asks me my gender. Not boy, nor girl. I'm a Frankie Iero." He nodded satisfied. "Gotta say that even though I don't know what the name implies, I've heard Gerard Ways are pretty awesome themselves."  
  
"Well, I know Gerard Ways are hungry creatures. This one thinks we should go downstairs and beg your mom for that food you told her to postpone," Gerard proposed.  
  
"That's certainly something both Frankie Ieros and Gerard Ways have in common then!"  
  
Without any other word, the two jumped out of the bed and threw themselves at the door to open it. At the top of the stairs, they challenged each other to a race for the kitchen, stumbling along the steps as Frank elbowed Gerard to get ahead. The dirty trick got him the victory. He entered the kitchen singing, "I am the champion, my friend!" loudly, Gerard hot on his heels screaming that it was unfair.  
  
Linda shook her head amused and continued to put cookies into a plate as she muttered something about teenagers being worse than toddlers.


	14. Chapter 14

That long conversation was followed by many similar ones where they talked about anything related to their lives they could think of. By the end of the week, they felt as if they had known each other for years. It was a feeling none of them had ever experienced. They'd never had the need to put someone they had practically just met up to date about their lives.   
  
In Gerard's opinion, that only happened when you met someone you suddenly wished you had known your whole life. People do it to fool their minds into believing that. He was sure that was his and Frank's case. They should have been friends since they were little, and it was only by mistake that they hadn't met before.  
  
With their lives not having been that long or eventful, however, they soon ran out of recalls and went back to their random talks. Music, comics, movies -the usual.   
  
That's what they had been mostly doing since they arrived to Gerard's house after school that afternoon; talking. The TV was a mere background to their chatting until Mikey came out of his room and suggested that they played some video games.  
  
Immersed in a match of Super Smash Brothers, they completely lost notion of time. It was only when their concentration was interrupted by Frank's Misfits ringtone that they saw how late it was.  
  
"Mom wants me home," Frank informed the other two boys with sadness. "Says she's coming for me in a few minutes."  
  
"Aww, not now!" Mikey protested. "Can't you stay for the night? It's Friday!"  
  
"I would, but I don't know if she..."  
  
Gerard snatched the phone out of Frank's hand. He was on a mission."Leave it to me."   
  
Merely greeting Linda, he improvised a monologue about why Frank should stay. It went from elaborating on the subject of fun influencing the flow of time, to how his Mario hadn't had the time to properly kick Frank's Link's ass. Mikey contributed to his brother's argument, screaming remarks over Gerard's shoulder such as "My Kirby doesn't react well to unfinished matches!"  
  
No one other than Gerard could hear what Linda was saying -that if she had managed to get any word in at all; but his face moments after he stopped speaking told bad news. "Uh...Frankie, your mom says you have a doc appointment early in the morning tomorrow."  
  
Frank let his head fall in defeat. "Oh, fuck, I completely forgot."  
  
"Can't she pick him up from here tomorrow?" Mikey asked loud enough for the woman to hear.  
  
Gerard signaled them to stay quiet. "But... Oh, okay. Yeah, I'll tell him. Bye, Mrs. Iero!" He then looked at his friend apologetically. "She wants you to _actually_ sleep and said she knows that's the last thing we'd do."  
  
"Meh."  
  
"Well, she's right," Mikey and Gerard's mother said from the kitchen.  
  
"And where would the fun be otherwise, mom?" Mikey questioned. "If someone wants to sleep, they stay in their own house."  
  
******  
  
After Frank went home, Gerard and Mikey decided to go back to the game. They first asked their mother if she wanted to take Frank's place. Since the woman refused, they chose to start a new match.  
  
Donna didn't leave the living room, though. Noticing that, Gerard pressed the pause button and waited for her to speak. He knew she would.  
  
"Gerard," she started, "I heard something about a doctor appointment? I could have asked Frank himself, but then you all tell me I nose around too much. Is he sick?"  
  
Gerard snorted. Their mom _did_ nose around a lot; there was a reason why they often had to chase her away when they were with friends. "Oh, not right now, thankfully. Just a checkup. His immune system is kind of shitty, so he has those often."  
  
"Ah," Donna assented. It looked like she was going to say something else right away -her mouth opening and closing a couple of times, but the silence extended.  
  
Gerard knew that his mom making a pause like that meant she wanted to ask something but couldn't figure out how.  
  
They were still patiently waiting when Donald entered the room and stared at his wife for a while before sitting down on the couch. "Donna, you scare me when you have that face. You're about to ask the boys one of your painfully awkward questions, aren't you?"  
  
She snapped out of her pondering, confused. "What?"  
  
"We know you, mom, what is it?" Mikey prodded.  
  
"Oh...nothing, I was just...thinking."  
  
"About what?" asked Gerard.  
  
Mikey aimed a finger to his mom. "Frankie, right?" he guessed. The woman said nothing, but looked guilty.  
  
Now it was Gerard's turn to feel lost. "What?"  
  
"Oh, mom. How did you refrain for so long?" his brother continued, snickering.  
  
"Well, you always get mad at me for making simple observations!" Donna accused them.  
  
"Your comments and observations often make them uncomfortable, Donna, you know that..." Donald pointed out. "I still remember in school, when you'd come wait for me to finish football practice and then tell the guys the first thing that ca-"  
  
"Dad, we've heard enough about how mom used to embarrass you," Gerard cut him off.  
  
"It's not like th-"  
  
Donna huffed. "Tell him, Donald!"  
  
"I'm trying, sweetheart, but you all keep interrupting me," the man replied in a fake sweet tone.  
  
"I'm sure I lived all this before, can we skip it?" Mikey whined.  
  
Gerard was getting tired of all the pointless rambling, so he got straight to the point. "Mom, what were you going to say about Frankie?"  
  
"Oh, just...he's kind of really... _effeminate_ , isn't he? I mean, he's a pretty sweet kid, it's just...it catches my attention, you know? I'd have thought he was a girl if you hadn't introduced him as Frank the first day. I'd have guessed 'Frankie' was short for Francesca or something..."  
  
Sitting on his hands, Gerard fought the urge to face-palm in front of his mother. He hadn't thought of it, but his brother was right. It was surprising that Donna hadn't brought that up before. "Frankie's just...Frankie. I don't-"  
  
"...we don't even think about that, mom," Mikey completed Gerard's thought perfectly. "Who cares? He's fucking awesome."  
  
"Michael! Language!" his father exclaimed.  
  
"Hey! Mom curses all the time!"  
  
"She's an adult. Are we gonna have this argument again?"  
  
"No, no. I'm sorry."  
  
Donna appeared to ignore the little argument. She addressed her youngest boy's last words to her instead. "I didn't say he wasn't, son. Just...I never met someone like him so young before. And I mean, I'm assuming he is...uh..."  
  
Gerard knew his mom too well. She came from a very conservative family, and even thought she had revealed against them in many ways, she still found it hard to talk about certain subjects. "Gay? You shouldn't assume so easily, but I'll leave the lesson for some other moment."  
  
She frowned, shaking a finger in front of Gerard's face. "Don't play smart-ass with me, boy!"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Okay. Yes, Frankie _is_ gay, but what do you want to get at?"  
  
"Well, you spend so much time with him..."   
  
Donna stopped when Mikey mumbled something that Gerard deciphered as, "Beware, we could catch gay."  
  
"I know, I _know_ it's not like...contagious," she said. "That's not what I mean! But...I was thinking if maybe you, Gerard, were...one of _them_ too?"  
  
Gerard was trying to not be rude. He liked to fool around with his parents, but was still respectful towards them. Yet as much as he tried to keep his mom's upbringing into consideration, the words she was choosing were getting on his nerves. "Mom..."  
  
Donna kneeled in front of him looking truly concerned. She grabbed his face in between her hands. "Gerard...is Frankie your boyfriend? Oh baby, please tell me he isn't. I really want some grandchildren..."  
  
"Donna _please_ ," Donald hissed. "You haven't even let him answer your first question!"  
  
Mikey laughed, clearly amused with the whole situation. "Don't worry mom, I'll give you some!"  
  
"Not for at least ten more years if possible," his dad murmured.  
  
Gerard had enough then. "Frankie's my _friend_ , my new best friend actually. And first, you shouldn't expect us to have children just because you want to be a grandma. Second, what if I was gay too? If _my partner and I_ wanted children, we could just adopt, you know?" he spat before getting up and leaving the room.   
  
Gerard could hear his mom calling after him, surely waiting for a more concrete answer that he wouldn't give her. His dad, on the other side, was talking with Mikey and laughing, so he supposed his attitude wouldn't get him grounded if it was up to Donald.


	15. Chapter 15

"Answer your phone, asshole, I'm sleeping here!" was Gerard's unfriendly wake-up call the next morning. It coincided with a cushion skillfully aimed to his head.  
  
Barely opening one eye, he peeped at the clock on his nightstand. 11:30 was too early for a Saturday. It was also too early to understand the meaning of words.

"Uh?"   
  
"Your phone. Answer it. Now," Mikey repeated slowly.  
  
Gerard then realized the guitar solo he had been hearing wasn't part of his dream -whatever it was that he was dreaming with before his brother perturbed his sleep, but his ringtone.   
  
"Fuck," he cursed as he let his numb right arm slip out of the bed to search the pair of jeans he had discarded on the floor. When he finally found his phone and saw who was calling, part of his bad mood dissipated. "Frankie?"  
  
"Hi, Gee. Were you sleeping?" Frank didn't sound much cheerier, even though Gerard knew he had been up for a few hours already. Had the doctor given him bad news?  
  
Suddenly worried, Gerard pushed himself into a sitting position, resting his back against the wall. "Well, not anymore," he answered honestly, then quickly added, "but it's no problem. How was the doc visit?"  
  
Frank groaned. "Terrible, I'm fucking _fuming_."  
  
That calmed Gerard's nerves a little. A doctor telling you bad news would most probably leave you scared, terrified even. 'Fuming' wasn't the first word that came to mind. It wasn't impossible, since everybody reacted differently, but the probabilities were lower.  
  
"Fuming?"  
  
"My _mom_ ," the younger boy elaborated. "She's...unbelievable. I just want to...argh."  
  
"I thought you meant the visit to the doctor made you furious?" Gerard asked, dodging a new cushion that came flying his way as his brother told him to keep it quiet. He heard Frank sigh and then some rustling on the other side of the line.  
  
"Yeah. And no. I mean...not the doctor's fault. She..." A new long, exasperated sigh. "My mom just...right out asked the doc about possible ways to fix my lack of manliness."  
  
That got Gerard well awake and hoping he had misheard Frank. "Wha-?"  
  
"She was all, 'I love Frank the way he is, but we all know how cruel people can be, and I _live_ worried about what could happen to him. So, I've been thinking...maybe his hormones are unbalanced or something? Couldn't some kind of shot or pills help?'" Frank imitated his mom's dramatic voice. Pretty well, actually.  
  
Gerard still couldn't believe what he was hearing. Linda wanted to medicate Frank to make him manlier? Just because she was scared? "What the fuck?"  
  
"You heard right!" Frank seemed to read his mind. "She's fucking crazy, Gee! Does she want me to get all hairy and gross? Like...I still don't need to shave and I'm not exactly _looking forward_ to it. Uh...is there permanent depilation for the face?"  
  
It was probably wrong for Gerard to feel that way -especially in this case, but he kind of enjoyed piss-off, ranty Frankie. He had a tendency to jump from subject to subject and come up with the most random ideas and conclusions. Or doubts.  
  
He did his best to hide the amusement, nevertheless. "I have no idea, Frankie. Sorry. I don't have much facial hair myself. But...I guess there is, 'cause I've seen trans women with no trace of beard or mustache. Uh...I'm probably saying something wrong, I know..."  
  
Frank clacked his tongue like he sometimes did when thoughtful. "No no, nevermind, I'll find out when needed. Anyway, about my mom: sure, this is probably a step forward from thinking I can just...act less girly if I want to. Now she at least seems to understand I can't help the way I act. And I know she has no problem with me being gay and is just worried that it 'shows too much.'" Gerard could picture him quoting with his fingers. "But...seriously, that was ridiculous. And _embarrassing._ Imagine the doctor's face!"  
  
Probably similar to the one he had made -Gerard thought. "What did he say?" he asked.  
  
"He told my mom to leave us alone, then he was interested in knowing what _I_ feel. If I'm comfortable with myself and that kind of shit, you know?"  
  
"Yeah," Gerard nodded, glad that Mikey couldn't see him from his bed and laugh at the pointlessness of the gesture. "It's what _you_ feel that matters. Then what?"  
  
"Then he made my mom come back in and told her to fuck off."  
  
Gerard almost chocked in his very spontaneous chuckle. "Really?"  
  
Frank's laugh reached his ear. "Of course not exactly, you idiot! But he more or less told her that she has no right to take those kind of decisions because it's _my_ body and I'm completely comfortable with myself."  
  
"Wow, he sounds cool," Gerard commented.  
  
"He is, thankfully. And he also told her there are a lot of misconceptions about the use of hormone shots or pills and that I don't need to have my hormone levels tested unless I had any specific health problem that required it -which I don't. Take _that_ , Linda!" There was still a certain angry edge to Frank's tone, but he sounded more relaxed. Gerard figured out the kid just needed to vent.  
  
"The doc _owned_ your mom, clearly! Besides that, everything okay?" Gerard questioned. "With your health, I mean."  
  
There was some background knocking and Frank told Gerard to hold on, disappearing for a minute. "Sorry, back. My health? Yeah, just the usual. Kinda anemic again so he prescribed some vitamins with extra iron."  
  
"You don't look or act anemic," Gerard joked. He thought anemia made you lack energy, which didn't seem to be Frank's case.  
  
"I know!" The other giggled. "I don't _feel_ anemic either! Craziness. But well...I do need a lot of energy and resistance for my dance classes, so the extra help won't hurt me."  
  
Gerard was about to ask Frank to let him watch a class some day when he felt something heavy land on the mattress by his feet. This time it was no projectile but Mikey in person, staring at him. His eyes were two slits and his hair was a mess*  
  
"There's no fucking way I can go back to sleep now. Tell the smaller fucker I say hi," the boy mumbled, collapsing next to Gerard with a whine.  
  
"Mikey says 'Hi,'" the older transmitted.  
  
"Hi, Mikeyway!" Frank screamed. "Ok. Guys, since you're both there...I _need_ to get out. Park today, pretty yes?"  
  
Mikey -who had his ear glued to Gerard's, exclaimed into the phone, "Bikes!"  
  
Gerard pushed him away with a curse. "You heard him."  
  
"Don't be punishing the Mikeyway! You're in, then, G-rard?"  
  
"Yeah, I need some not-football exercise. Tell Marina to come too, the more the funnier."  
  
"Agreed!" Frank said excitedly. "She'll be here. Come for us at 4?"  
  
"4 is fine, yep." Gerard nodded again, this time being caught by Mikey.  
  
"...and your dumbass friend just nodded to the phone," he let Frank know.  
  
"Hey, don't be so hard on your brother, he's sleepy! Gotta go eat now, boys, see ya both later," Frank told them quickly before hanging up.


	16. Chapter 16

It was a few hours after lunch. While Frank hid in his room with Marina, Linda received some neighbors for a round of coffee and gossip. People over fifty seemed to be a majority in their neighborhood, so except for Marina's mother -who wasn't too fond of these meetings- all of Linda's friends were quite older than her.  
  
"Oh, a few mornings ago," Stella was saying, "my daughter Susan found her youngest sitting at the kitchen's table with a newspaper in his hands...and wearing his dad's clothes!"  
  
"Oh, that's so cute!" Marybelle exclaimed.  
  
"Wait, that's not all," the other continued. "When he sees his mom he goes, 'Morning, darling,' just like his dad always does!"  
  
"Oh my God, kids can be so funny!" Linda laughed. "When Frankie was little he was always stealing my clothes and modeling them for us, it was adorable."  
  
The other women's laughter suddenly died down and an uncomfortable silence filled the room as glances were exchanged.  
  
"Is...is there something wrong?" the hostess asked.  
  
“I don't know, Linda.” Marybelle took a sip of her coffee, hesitant. “I've been wondering...what's up with your boy, Frank?”  
  
Linda shifted in her seat and gingerly picked up her coffee mug. She drank from the hot liquid and flinched visibly before replying, "What do you mean?"  
  
Marybelle looked at Stella, who gave her a 'don't get me into this' expression in return. The first sighed and her eyes fell back on Linda. “I saw him out my front window the other day when I was watering my lilies. He was with that ginger friend of his, and at first sight I thought they were two girls, for goodness sake.”  
  
Linda's lips formed a tight straight line while she exhaled sharply through her nose. “He’s just…different, Marybelle.”  
  
Bertha, who hadn't talked much so far, tapped her fingers on the table as if encouraging herself to speak. “Linda, don't take it wrong, we don't want to stick our noses into the way you raise your son. We're just trying to look out for you and the boy. He's been getting more and more...feminine. You're going to have people talking about him if you…if he keeps up this act. You need to try to put a stop to it.”  
  
“We're just concerned, dear,” added Marybelle.  
  
"I know b-but..." Linda sputtered nervously. "I've tried. I've talked to him many times to get him to dress more...accordingly to his sex, but he's so insistent that he likes to wear those clothes! Frank's doctor doesn't think it's his hormones and Anthony's no help. He just encourages Frankie.”  
  
Bertha shook her head. "Well, girl, you need to talk to your husband, it's for your child's good."  
  
"He has a different opinion, Bertha," Linda commented, then slightly veered the conversation. "What Frank wears to go out is not that bad, though, I don't think so..."  
  
"I have to agree," Stella spoke timidly. "Leave poor Linda alone already, Frank's clothes are not _that_ bad..."  
  
"For a girl, maybe," Marybelle replied. "You can be honest, Tella. We're just trying to help Linda."  
  
"I just think you're all..."  
  
Bertha didn't give Stella time to defend her posture, instead asking Linda, "You mean Frank dresses even _more_ like a girl when at home?"  
  
"I...I don't think what he wears here is such a big deal, honestly," Linda retorted. She was starting to sound pretty annoyed.  
  
Marybelle contorted her lips in such a fashion that the wrinkles around them became even more pronounced. “Well, since I guess what he does in the street _is_ more of deal…” she began to whisper across the table, like she was about to speak of a horrid taboo subject, “the boy was acting weird with another boy. You know...like boys would normally do with their little girlfriends?”  
  
Linda rubbed her face in a clear gesture of exasperation. “First of all, 'the boy' has a name, so I'd appreciate it if you used it. And secondly, are you talking about Gerard? Dark hair, pale...comes here often?"  
  
"Wowowow, sorry!" Marybelle raised her hands in surprise at Linda's reaction. "You know 'boy' is just an affectionate term; no need to snap at me, Linda. And yes, that's who the b-- Frank was with."  
  
"Gerard is Frank's _friend_ ," Linda stressed. "My son has finally made a new friend and I'm not going to do anything against that. And what is it that you saw that seemed _so_ weird to you, uh? Were they holding hands, kissing? What did you see, Mary?"  
  
Marybelle looked both horrified and doubtful. It took her several seconds to respond. "Jesus Christ, no. I would have told you right away! They were, you know...walking very close, whispering, laughing. Then they pushed each other playfully for a while and finally kept on walking with their arms around each other!"  
  
"Oh yes, so very boyfriendly of them," Linda said in a monotone, unimpressed tone. "That's what friends do."  
  
Bertha hummed loudly, making the others turn to her. "You might be right, Linda. But that, together with the way he dresses? It's definitely going to have people talking if he keeps it up,” she uttered, resigned to her position on the matter.  
  
After that, the ladies silently sipped at their coffees for a few minutes until Marybelle took a deep breath. “Can't you just refuse to buy him any more girly clothes?” she brought the subject back stubbornly.  
  
Linda quickly cut her eyes across to her blond friend. “I _don't_ buy them. Frank uses his own money to do it and his dad and Marina support him. I've asked him not to! Do you think I haven't? I don't exactly _like_ that he dresses like a girl, but I'm hoping it's a phase he's going to outgrow...”  
  
Suddenly, Frank was standing next to the couch where his mother was sitting, Marina close behind him. Linda gasped loudly when she realized her son had tears in his eyes.  
  
"A _phase_? Thanks for defending me, Mom. Thanks a lot," he said sarcastically.  
  
“Frankie, sweetie...“  
  
“No, Mom. I get it! You were very clear earlier with the doctor and now here. You want me to be more like Ray. It's not okay for you that I'm just myself!” Frank turned and pushed his way past Marina, his gait speeding up to a sprint once past her. The girl quickly went after him.  
  
He was almost at the door when Marybelle let out, "It's not that, kiddo. But...don't you want to be a normal boy?"  
  
Frank spun in his place fast, his fists tensing at each side of his body as he glared at the woman. He started, "Look, ma'am, I-"  
  
"Gerard and Mikey will be here soon, let's go," Marina interrupted, pushing him back towards the exit.  
  
Looking down at the purple lycra tights Frank was wearing with jean shorts on top, Bertha told Linda, "I don't think it's safe for him go out like that, people will talk..."  
  
"S _hut up_ , all of you," Linda hissed. "We've done enough damage and Frankie looks just _fine_ ," she finished as the door closed behind the two kids.


	17. Chapter 17

Once out of the house, Frank felt like the fury he had inside was going to make him explode in tiny little pieces. The anger intensified every time tears would blurry his vision, no matter how much he rubbed his eyes with desperation trying to keep them dry. He didn't want to let stupid people ruin his day. He didn't want to let his mother do it either, but he was _so_ frustrated. He had tried and tried to make her understand. When he was sure that she had finally gotten it -at least for the most part, that conversation he had eavesdropped from the stairs made him doubt again. Frank hoped that his mother had just not understood enough. Otherwise he'd have to think she was simply ashamed of him, of her own son. That would be much worse.  
  
Frank was conscious of Marina's presence and that she was trying to comfort him. However, he continued to shun her because he knew the moment he let her hug him, he wouldn't be able to refrain from sobbing.  
  
"You _can_ cry, you know?" she told him. "It's no crime and it would actually do you some good."  
  
"No it won't, it'll just make me feel like they won. And they didn't. They fucking didn't and they never will. FUCK," Frank screamed, facing the wall and preparing to punch it.  
  
Marina was quick to stop his hand, keeping it in hers as she struggled to get the boy to a safe distance from the tempting bricks. "Stop it, Frank!"  
  
"Let me go, Mar! I need to release all this anger or I'll fucking _die_!" Frank tried to get himself free, but his friend had always been bigger and stronger than him.  
  
Marina rolled her eyes, still holding Frank by both arms. "You won't _die_. If you want a good anger releaser, I already told you what that is: cry. I could let your break your hand against the wall 'cause, you know, not _my_ hand. But I just did your nails an hour ago and won't let you, angry midget, ruin my job," she concluded with seriousness.  
  
Frank stopped fighting, looked up at Marina and couldn't hold a chuckle. "You're a dork." He sniffed.  
  
The girl let him go and smiled approvingly. "That's my Frankie!"  
  
"I'm still not crying," Frank pointed out, wiping his face with a sleeve of his t-shirt. "You wanted me to cry."  
  
"Well yeah, I still think you need a good cry. But if you're not going to give in, then a laugh is at least much better than a broken hand or an exploding Frankie..."  
  
Frank couldn't argue with any part of that. Crying would work best with no painful consequence, but he already felt better after Marina broke the tension and made him laugh. He could leave the crying for some other time. "I guess so. It's just..." He forgot what he was about to say as he spotted the guy two houses from his looking straight at him with disgust.  
  
"What is it?" Marina turned to check what Frank was seeing. "Oh. That." Raising her voice, she addressed the man, "What the _fuck_ are you looking at, uh? All of you old farts need to let my friend alone and mind your own damn business!"  
  
"Mar, please, don't get in trouble..." Frank whispered, not sure Marina even heard him.  
  
The guy just shook his head and walked towards his house muttering, "Freak, just like her friend and her mother..."  
  
That got Marina running after their neighbor. She stopped on the man's sidewalk only because Frank caught her by the jacket. "What's your problem with my mother, asshole?" she screamed nevertheless.  
  
Frank tugged at her some more. "Leave it, you know he has a problem with a lot of people in this street, stupid hermit."  
  
"He called my mom a freak, I'm furious!"  
  
" _Us_ too, don't forget. Not our best day, uh?"  
  
Before Marina could reply, they saw Gerard arrive on his red bike. He parked it against the curb and walked to them, frowning as he looked from one kid to the other. "What's wrong?"  
  
Mikey was stopped farther behind, his two feet on the ground as he pushed buttons on his cellphone.  
  
Gerard's simple question made Frank want to be painfully honest; to list everything that had gone wrong that day so far. But since what he needed was to forget, he instead lied. "Oh...nothing. Everything's fine."  
  
Gerard didn't seem too convinced, so Frank was thankful when Marina came to the rescue. "Just...arguing with a stupid neighbor, nothing serious."  
  
"Ahh, okay. We all have those, I guess!" Gerard laughed.  
  
Well, that was easy. Frank could have done it himself if he had used his supposedly gifted brain. Where was it when he needed it for anything other than school work?  
  
"I'll get our bikes," he announced, going back to his porch where they had left them.  
  
Without delay they began to walk towards the park. Frank thought it was ridiculous to have to carry their bikes instead of riding them there; but after that time when he was hit by a car, he wasn't allowed near traffic with his bike anymore. It hadn't been anything too serious -just a few scrapes and bruises, and he considered the ban unjustified, yet he didn't want to risk anyone seeing him that could then rat him out. He was lucky that his friends were patient and gave up the use of their own wheels; they could have well told him 'we'll wait for you there' and gotten ahead. Thankfully, the park was only five blocks away.  
  
Stopping her march for some seconds, Marina waited for Mikey, who was again fumbling with his phone, to catch up. She bumped her shoulder into his. "What'ssss up, Mikey!" She grinned when the boy looked up.  
  
Mikey, on the contrary, looked annoyed. "Seriously, Marina...why do I have to put up with you here too?"  
  
That made Frank and Gerard come to a halt and turn around, nearly colliding with the other two kids.   
  
"Is there something we should know?" asked Frank with a frown. Because seriously, Mikey and Marina barely knew each other.  
  
"She goes to my school," Mikey replied casually.  
  
Frank's frown got deeper, although this time it was aimed at Marina alone. "What the fuck, Mar? How come you never told me this?"  
  
Marina groaned and moved her hand to indicate the three boys to keep on walking. Only then she gave Frank explanations. "I haven't really known Mikey as Gerard's brother for too long! Only saw him with you one time, actually. When was it, a couple of weeks ago? Maybe less. He seemed familiar then, but I wasn't sure. He's not in my class but in my...I mean, Bill's."  
  
"Her crush," Mikey translated. "She's been driving me crazy asking me about him and wanting to know whether he mentions her."  
  
"Oh, shut up!" the girl demanded as everybody laughed.  
  
Frank tried to sober up when seeing his friend's glare, but a giggle escaped. "Now I see why you didn't tell me about Mikey."  
  
"Well, of course. Every time I mention Bill you don't stop making fun of me, asshole!" she retorted.  
  
"And why didn't _you_ tell me?" Gerard poked his brother in the chest.  
  
The youngest Way shrugged. "I forgot."  
  
Gerard knew Mikey was being honest. "I think you should meet our friend James. He's always talking about the outer space, UFOs, all that shit."  
  
"What does that have to do with me?"  
  
"Your head's often in the stratosphere, so you could tell him how it looks. Better than a telescope," the older elaborated.  
  
Frank raised a finger at Gerard. "See, the stratosphere is not far enough. If Mikey's head reaches the _exosphere_ , then James will be surely interested," he informed with a new giggle.  
  
Gerard wore the frown now, thoughtful. "Which one was the exos- no, forget it, you'll give me a geography lesson."  
  
"I wasn't going to!" Frank protested.  
  
Marina laughed. "I see you've been victim of one of Frankie's knowledge attacks."  
  
"Jeez! I just want to educate you, guys. Some subjects are fun! If you only opened your minds a little..." Frank shook his head defeated.  
  
Mikey patted his back in support. "I guess they've grown pretty fond of their ignorance."  
  
"Guess so..."  
  
Even though they had been too entertained to notice, they had made it to the park a couple of minutes ago and just continued to walk around it. Finally becoming aware of that, Frank fished an elastic band out of his pocket and tied his hair back in a ponytail.  
  
"Purple," Gerard noted. "Do they always match your clothes?" He knew what the answer was, of course; his observant self hadn't missed those details.  
  
"Uh? No...it's coincidence," Frank eluded.  
  
"Yeah, coincidence my ass," Marina said, then clapped her hands. "Everybody shut up now! It's time to exercise our bodies. On your bikes, boys! Who takes the longest to go around the park and be back to this spot, pays for the cotton candy!"


	18. Chapter 18

Fun, exercise and sugar helped keep everything that had upset Frank out of his mind for a while. It felt good, so he didn't want it back in there. He didn't want to talk about it, just to let it go.

It was no surprise when he got home one hour later than he should have and yet his mother didn't scold him. He'd known she would feel guilty, and for a few seconds, it gave Frank certain satisfaction. When he dispatched her overly affectionate question about whether he'd had fun with a dry "Yes," his mom clearly understood that he was still mad. 

She then tried apologizing, telling Frank that her stupid friends were just getting on her nerves and she hadn't meant what he heard; that she also didn't expect him him to be like Ray. None of that changed Frank's attitude, who walked past her and towards the stairs with an "It's okay, forget it." It wasn't okay, but forgetting it was what he planned to do, so his mom might as well do the same.

It wasn't long until his dad knocked on the door of his room, wanting to know what had happened between him and Linda. Frank couldn't tell if the man honestly had no idea, or he just wanted to hear his side of the story. Either way, the only answer Anthony got was another "Forget it, it's okay."

Thinking sleep was a good way to force oblivion, Frank went to bed without dinner.

******

Everybody acted like nothing had happened the next day, probably because Frank's family knew that was what he preferred. Frank tried to keep the interaction to a minimum anyway, wanting to avoid painful conversations.

He spent most part of Sunday having a Snowboard Kids 2 battle with his brother. Although Ray said his friends had all deserted him, Frank had the feeling that he'd stayed home for him. The older never asked anything, but obviously knew something had happened the previous day. Frank would be lying if he didn't admit he took some of his remaining anger on his brother snowboarder, hitting him with everything he got. It was therapeutic.

******

If Frank was hoping for at least a calm day at school on Monday, though, life disappointed him once again. 

He was reaching the bathroom in between classes when he heard muffled screams coming from inside. Just then the door was kicked open, almost hitting him in the face, and out came Steve looking smug. He only gave Frank a smirk before walking away.

Rushing in, Frank found Brandon and Adam's younger brother Zach curled up against the wall. His left eye was swelling up and his lip was split open, blood staining his light blue t-shirt. He looked up at Frank with an expression that fell somewhere between embarrassment and pure fear as he whispered, "But I'm not even gay..." 

When Frank knelt down and asked if he was okay, all Zach did was beg him not to tell his brothers; Steve was their friend, he said. Frank thought that was _more_ of a reason to tell them, but then the kid confessed that his siblings would be out of the team if he spoke. He had been threatened with that.

Nothing made sense to Frank. He hadn't been around those two boys long enough to figure them out. They seemed nice, but he couldn't understand how they didn't already know their brother was one more victim. Sure, their friends didn't beat Zach up as often as they did other kids -and it had never been this bad before; but didn't they put two and two together the times it did happen? Was Zach that good at hiding it? 

Frank didn't waste any time voicing that, anyway. He made a mental note to open the two older Phillips' eyes later -no matter the consequences- and instead helped Zach up and took him to the school nurse.

After they both argued with the woman to convince her to not call Zach's brothers, Frank left the boy there and returned to the bathroom. He was already very late for the current class so it was pointless to go, and his bladder was still painfully full.

While he was doing his thing, he heard someone open the door. He stiffened and even held his pee in for some seconds, listening for any new sign of violence. It was silent.

Frank left the bathroom stall and took a brief look around, confused as to where the person he'd heard opening the door a minute ago had gone. The rest of the stalls were obviously empty, since no door was closed.

Shrugging it off he went to the sink. Entertained as he was washing his hands thoroughly, he didn't glance up at the mirror until he was done. He then saw James, standing awkwardly near the entrance. When Frank turned around to face him, the boy got visible nervous, shifted his weight from foot to foot and looked down.  

"Are you alright, J?" Frank asked, getting closer.

"I...yeah. I was waiting for you, actually." James' voice sounded strange and low to the point that it was hard to hear him. That was definitely not normal. The guy was one of the loudest people in the school.

"While you should be in class? How did you...?"

"I was going to my locker for something I forgot and saw you enter the bathroom and I thought..." James took a deep breath and, instead of finishing what he was saying, he gently pushed Frank against the opposite wall.

The younger boy frowned, lost with his friend's odd behavior. They hadn't fought, there had been no trouble between them. Had Matt forced James into beating him up? Was he going to hurt him? He felt like he should be covering his face, but the way James was looking into his eyes kept him nailed in place. "What are you..."

"Just..." James gave up on fulfilling Frank's doubts with words. He placed an open hand on his friend's cheek and kissed him by surprise. A little peck on the lips followed by an expectant look.

Frank had flailed for a second but then froze. Many questions in his mind. Many certainties too. Mostly, he was sure he felt nothing beyond the friendly level for James. But he was a teenager, and his traitorous hormones were freaking out, and his only working brain cell at the moment was screaming, "Oh My God, Frankie, you got your first fucking kiss!"

"I really like you, Frankie." James must have mistaken Frank's lack of reaction for approval because, before he had the chance to say anything, there were lips on his again. 

And Frank had no reason to be kissing James, and he knew he had to tell him that he wasn't interested. But...hormones; they liked it. It was their fault that Frank found himself kissing back. Or at least trying to. He had only practiced on his hand while he and Marina would fantasize about how their first kiss should be. She had suggested that they practiced with each other, but Frank had made a disgusted face and refused.

Now, James' lips were nothing like Frank's hand. They were far softer and warmer and fitting. To make it worse, they tasted like watermelon bubblegum. But as much as they were enjoyable lips to kiss, Frank forced himself to remember that he didn't like their owner like _that_.

"James...no." He pushed him apart apologetically.

"I'm sorry I...that was too much, right? But-"

"No it's not! Or...yeah, but..." Frank gulped. He didn't want to hurt James. "What I...what I wanted to say is...I don't like you _that_ way. You're a great friend, funny and awesome and kind but...sorry."

"Oh." James looked at his feet, disappointed. "Sorry, I thought... But...you kissed back?"

Frank blushed with shame. "Well...it was kind of my first kiss, and I was confused and a little bit excited and...I didn't realize what I was doing? Sorry to get your hopes up, J." He gave a sad smile.

James opened his eyes comically big. "What the galactic fuck? How come it was your first kiss? You're _so_ pretty!" he blunted out, looking embarrassed right after. "I mean...uh...fuck, I'd have never thought...I...otherwise I wouldn't have done it this way. Fuck, I'm an idiot, I ruined your first kiss."

Frank felt his heart ache a little. He hadn't thought of it that way. He still didn't think of it that way. "No! No, you didn't. It was...yeah, surprising and you should have maybe asked me first if I was interested? But...I was the one who kissed you back, right? And...it was actually nice. Not like it's really useful coming from someone with no other experience but...I think you might be a good kisser. You'll do good when you...find someone that, you know, likes you back the same way." He patted James' shoulder.

"Really? You...sure you don't wanna try?"

Frank shook his head. "Sorry. I still want to be your friend, though. Do you think you can?"

"Y-yeah, sure. I swear I won't make it weird for you."

"Thanks for saying I'm pretty, by the way."

"You _are_ ," James remarked. "So, do you have someone in mind? I mean, do you like someone?" 

Frank thought for a while, although he had no idea _why_ he needed to think. "Nah, not looking for a boyfriend for now. You're gay, then? My gaydar kinda caught something at a point, but I thought it was just your weirdness that confused it, or that the alien signals communicating with you had affected it."

James snorted. "Very funny, Frank. I'm bi, but I never...oh my God. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," he started chanting as he spaced out.

"What?"

"They can't know!"

"Who?" Frank grabbed James' sleeve and shook him.

"The football team!"

Frank raised his eyebrows. "Are you kidding me, James? You don't fear them. Come on, you could kick Matt's ass if you wanted."

"Maybe. But...it's not _that_ kind of fear. It's like...a rule for them, you know? Sure, it's a stupid, discriminatory one, but those assholes made it. And...in spite of them I love the team, I love playing. And I'm not exactly among the best players. If they found out I like guys too, and especially that I _kissed you_ , pretty sure they'd find a way to get me kicked out."

"That makes no sense..."

"I know but _please_ , Frankie, don't let anyone know..." James was pleading on his knees now, hands pressed together against his mouth and little eyes peeping up through some stray locks of hair.

"Uh...James, get the fuck off the floor. We're in the bathroom, it's _gross_ ," Frank squeaked out nervously. 

The situation had gone from weird to weirder. Or well, maybe this wasn't weirder than having one of your new best friends who was part of the football team kiss you; but it was still pretty uncomfortable. Frank felt bad for James. The fact that he had to be so worried about the team finding out he was bi was just wrong. No one should have to worry about their sexual orientation interfering with the things they loved. 

Frank _wasn't_ going to tell anyone. He had no reason to. He'd never out someone who wasn't ready. However, seeing James beg, seemingly sure that he was thinking of telling, had given Frank an idea. 

It was a nasty idea that made him feel guilty just by considering it. He tried to push it away as he remembered that they should really go to their respective classes. Yet...it was a possibility, and the purpose was noble. It could make him lose a friend -he hoped not- but it could also contribute to keep many kids safe.

"Frankie?" James was looking at Frank from above again, fear still written all over his face and gestures. He wouldn't leave the bathroom until being sure that his secret wouldn't be revealed. "What are you thinking? Please..."

Frank felt like the biggest asshole. He was going to use his friend. His friend who liked him as more than a friend and had maybe had his heart broken by his rejection, to start with. "I'll...make a deal with you."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't tell anyone if..." Frank had to stop to mentally reassure himself that it was for a good cause. "...if you stop the guys from hurting any kid."

James' mouth fell open and he swept the hair off his face, inspecting Frank's. He probably expected it to be a joke and was searching for signs of amusement. "Are you serious?"

"Very." Frank nodded. No matter how noble the reason, right now he felt like he was going to hell. He had to bring back Zach's terrified face from a moment ago to stay firm in his decision.

"B-but...it's not fair! I'm your _friend_ , Frank. I just told you that I like you and now you're blackmailing me? Holy shit, kid. I can't!"

Frank thought of a way to defend his idea. "Yes, you can! You're stronger than them, I'm pretty sure many of them fear you."

James rubbed his forehead, sighting. "Didn't I ever tell you? They don't _fear_ me. They don't fight me over things like sitting with Gerard 'cause my cousin has a bar and lets them drink though they're underage. But they wouldn't let _this_ pass."

"Oh." Frank was about to change his mind at this point; maybe the plan wouldn't work. "No, I didn't know. I still think you can kick their asses if needed."

"Frank...fucking _please_."

"Don't think of this as blackmailing," the boy resumed the argument, "just a friendly push to help you fight for your rights. You're one of us, after all!"

"I am. That's why you wouldn't rat me out," James stated.

And no, Frank wouldn't. He only needed him to think otherwise. "I don't believe anything like you imagine would happen if I told them. I'd be doing you a _favor_. Anyway, I won't as long as I don't see any kid getting hurt."

James seemed confused. "I...fuck, I can't even get mad at you! I admire you for caring so much about those kids and also...you know... But _how_ do I stop the guys?"

"I don't know, just...threaten them with making them try their own medicine?" Frank scratched his scalp, thinking. "Or tell them your cousin hates homophobes and there will be no alcohol if-"

"My cousin's worse than them."

"Well, shit." Frank waved his hands desperately. He was running out of things to say. "Then just tell them you can make your cousin stop the benefits!" 

For a moment he thought James would finally tell him to fuck off, but resignation took up the boy's features and he said, "Okay. I also need an excuse for suddenly being actively interested in the cause, don't you think?"

"Nope. They obviously know you're against what they do, and that you're my friend now. That's enough."

"I don't-"

"Gotta go or I'll miss the next class too. Just...do it the way you think best, okay?" Frank smiled innocently and used James' shoulders as support to prop himself up and kiss his cheek. "And we're still friends, don't worry. Good luck!"


	19. Chapter 19

Frank didn't dare tell Gerard about his conversation with James. Not on that same day. No matter how many justifications he tried to come up with for his actions, remorse still ate at him. For worse, Gerard had noticed something was up; it wasn't normal for Frank to be so quiet. So, the boy had mumbled an improvised excuse about not feeling too well and then just felt like an asshole when his friend checked his temperature and asked if he was getting sick.

The same guilty feeling returned stronger that night, not letting him sleep. After tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity, Frank decided to amend at least one of his faults. He needed to tell Gerard what he had done before he found out by himself. Before the suspicious communication going on between him and James made him curious.

In a nutshell, Frank had taken advantage of James' crush on him in the name of their cause. Gerard would have never approved of that, and he would feel rightfully hurt if Frank hid it from him on top of all.

Frank was thankful that nothing that could have exposed him happened before lunch time, when he took Gerard by the wrist and dragged him apart from the rest of the guys.  

With both sat at the table that had been Frank's for years, Gerard's whole face denoted confusion. "What's happening?"

The red Tupperware container in Frank's hands suddenly became the most interesting thing to set his eyes on. He got into a pattern of removing the lid and putting it back on as he tried to find the right words. "Uh...you know how I told you I wasn't feeling well yesterday? Well...I lied. I just...I had something to tell you but... I mean, I knew I had to tell you, but I didn't want to yet. Or...I wasn't ready and...it's not something _bad_. I hope not. This...this thing I did. I mean, it's probably just...unfair? But I..."

Gerard let Frank ramble for a moment, giving him time to put his thoughts in order. But when the younger one didn't seem to get anywhere and the fidgeting became annoying, Gerard snatched the container off his hands and gave him a stern, yet worried look. "Frank...what did you do? Don't scare me."

Now deprived of his anxiety relief, Frank started to play with his hair, tucking and untucking it behind his ear. "Well...uh...James kissed me in the bathroom," was the first meaningful sentence he could get out, although not the most important he wanted to communicate.

Due to the unexpected nature of the confession, Gerard's reaction was also far from sensible. "Wow, James likes guys?"

"Both girls and guys, apparently. You hadn't noticed? You spend more time with him than I do..." Frank felt a little more relaxed now that they were actually conversing. It would make what came next easier. "Well, I guess it takes one to know one."

Gerard could have told Frank that he kind of was _one_ too, but he wasn't really listening anymore. Instead he was mentally rewinding to what Frank had said before. "Oh...wait a minute. You said he kissed _you_? What the f-" He stopped himself when realizing that he was about to sound like a protective big brother...or something. He had no reason to. James was nice, and he and Frank got along pretty well. It made sense. "And you...kissed back?"

Frank blushed, somewhat ashamed. "I...I kinda did?" When he looked up, Gerard's odd expression was one he couldn't figure out, but it propelled him to clarify what he had said even if he knew he didn't have to. "I just...it was my first kiss, you know? Caught me off guard."

Gerard was smiling now, albeit still weirdly. "I understand. But...so you don't-"

"I don't like him that way," Frank rushed to say, catching the idea. "I mean, I told James that, which is the truth."

"And that's what you say was unfair?" Gerard felt unexplainably relieved. "Frankie you couldn't pretend, it wouldn't be good for any of you. You shouldn't feel bad..."

The younger boy's nerves kicked back in. "I know, it's not that."

"What then?" Gerard questioned. "I'm scared again."

"Okay." Frank took a deep breath. "Let's make this quick."

"Come on, Frank."

"I...uh...kinda told James I'd tell the football team that he's gay if he didn't keep Matt and his friends away from the kids," he mussitated, secretly hoping Gerard hadn't understood him.

"WHAT THE FUCK, FRANKIE?" Gerard raised his voice, appalled. Had he heard right?

"I know, I suck, I just..."

Gerard rested his head on the table for a moment before looking at Frank again. "You _blackmailed_ James?"

Frank scowled at that. "HEY, you too with that word?"

"What do you want me to call it?" The older tried to keep his voice low now to avoid getting anyone's attention. He wasn't _angry_. What he felt was closer to disappointment. They couldn't _use_ people in the name of their cause. "He's our friend and he's a sweet guy! And...and you should know it's not right to play with those kind of personal things!"

Frank had never handled disappointed looks well. Not when coming from those he cared about. Especially not when the person was right to feel that way. However, he was also one to defend his ideas until the end once put into action. "I'd never _really_ tell anyone, Gee! I just...want him to think I would."

"It's just not right. How will it even work? I don't-"

"Wait..." Frank interrupted him.

While they were talking, Matt, John and Steven had neared one of the other sectors of tables across from them, where Alex sat talking to his best friend Victor. Frank couldn't hear what was being said between both parts, but the physical language was enough of a hint. He wasn't going to wait to see what happened next.

"Shit. Wait here, Gee."

Thinking Frank was about to directly interfere, Gerard attempted to stop him, his fingers only grazing the boy's back when he sprinted out of the bench. But he didn't need to get up and run after him. He soon saw that his friend wasn't going towards the zone of conflict.

James was involved in an apparently very deep conversation about the cosmos with Brandon when Frank approached him. It wasn't an ideal situation, since he suspected Brandon didn't represent any real danger to James. He wasn't an asshole like most of the team and probably wouldn't delate him. The same, Frank had to try; if only as a reminder for James to pay more attention to what Matt was doing.

"Hey, J!" He waited for both boys to notice him before he continued to talk. "I was told that you know of a gay bar where they let minors in? I'm really curious to visit one and rumor has it you're the man to go to!"

James went white. "What the FUCK?" he exclaimed. Brandon was staring at him, waiting for the answer. It might have been only out of curiosity, but he seemed eager to verify if Frank was right.

"Pay _attention_ , James," Frank stressed. But he wasn't talking about his question. To make that clear, he inconspicuously pointed with his head to where Matt now had Alex on his feet with his back pressed against a tree. Once he knew James had gotten it, he giggled and added, "I was joking, dude! You should have seen your face, and Brandon's!"

Frank could hear James' muttered "Fuck you" as he patted his arm to then walk away, back to Gerard.

"What was that?" Gerard asked.

"Just watch..."

They both saw James make his way to where Matt was screaming insults at Alex and shaking him violently while Victor pleaded besides them. Again, Frank and Gerard weren't close enough to hear what James was saying, as he spoke in much more normal volume. After a few-seconds-long argument, Matt let go of the smaller kid and followed James back to their table.

Gerard was impressed. "Wow. What did he tell Matt?"

"No idea." Frank shrugged. "I just told him to stop them, he could choose the method."

The other pursed his lips, still not liking the situation one bit. "And what did _you_ tell James?" Seeing Frank's doubtful face he added, "The truth."

"I...asked him a random something that you'd normally ask a gay person so Brandon would hear?" 

"Frankie!"

"Just to catch his attention!" Frank alleged. "Once he got it, I told him I was joking. It worked, right?"

Gerard shook his head. "I guess but...I really don't like the method you came up with. We're not supposed to hurt anyone -and that includes their feelings- with our plan. Well, anyone other than maybe the bullies."

Frank couldn't argue. Gerard was right, and now he desperately wanted to fix his mistake. "I know, it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, I d-"

"But it's true that we need someone else to watch over the kids until we come up with a better plan, so.."

Those words perked Frank's interest. "...so my idea wasn't that awful?" he asked hopefully.

"Your idea was terrible," Gerard maintained, the pout returning to Frank's face.

"I can just tell James that he doesn't h-"

"Let me finish! The idea _was_ terrible, but the result is not bad I have to admit. Just...make sure you don't actually reveal James' sexuality with your _jokes_." 

Frank smiled, but still looked down like a scolded little kid. "I won't, I promise." He raised his right hand.

Gerard chuckled and kissed Frank's head. "Better eat now," he said as he gave the red container back to its owner.


	20. Chapter 20

Sometimes, Gerard got frustrated with Frank's stubbornness. Once the kid got an idea in his mind, he had to execute it as soon as possible; it could never wait much. This time, it was the pending talk he had with the Phillips about their younger brother. Lunch had been rather eventful, so Frank had barely had time to briefly inform Gerard, but the older knew the other wouldn't let it pass.

Instead of waiting until the next day, Frank had decided to stay after school and watch the football practice just to catch the guys. Gerard suggested that Frank talk to them _before_ the practice, trying to make him see that he didn't need to watch the whole thing. Frank, however, said that he didn't want the rest of the team to be around, so he preferred to wait until it was over and they parted to go home. Gerard then reminded his friend of the biology lesson he had to study for, but those arguments never worked too well with someone as smart as Frank. 

When Frank asked Gerard why he was so adamant about him not watching the practice, Gerard had to actually take some seconds before replying. The only answer he could some up with sounded lame, but it was sincere: he didn't want Frank to be out there in the cold watching something he didn't even enjoy.

Sadly, that also failed. Frank's mom had told him the _exact_ same thing when he called to say he'd go home with Ray later. The coincidence made Gerard feel even lamer; it meant he had mom worries. 

Of course Frank had assured her mother that he didn't mind and, according to his own words, she hadn't insisted because she was pleased that her son wanted to attend a manly sport. Gerard didn't think that was the reason; he was more inclined to believe that the woman knew it was useless to argue with Frank in some cases. He hadn't voiced that to Frank, though.  

Truth be told, if Frank felt the cold, he wasn't showing it. Gerard observed him advance happily towards the bleachers and take a seat, while he himself shivered his way to the field to join the others. If Gerard had hated that weird summer-in-fall they'd had a month ago when it came to practices, he hated this reasonable almost-Winter cold even more. It made him curse the fact that football couldn't be played indoors for the hundredth time in a month. He was conscious that he couldn't play in his heavy coat, but taking if off was painful every time; not to mention the freezing air entering his airways. 

The coach didn't let him ponder about it, though, and Gerard ran to leave his warm coat with Frank before the man finished screaming, "Way, quilt off!" He would have to do his best if he wanted to warm up. His usual half-assed efforts could mean death by hypothermia.

"Dammit," he thought, "if the whole Winter is this cold I'll end up actually playing well." 

******

Frank had tried to act like the cold wasn't affecting him. He didn't want to admit that both his mom and Gerard had been right about his bad idea. But as soon as he had Gerard's huge black coat in his hands he said, "Fuck it," and threw it around his shoulders, over his own denim and fur jacket.

He was still concentrating on staying warm and not catching a cold when a feminine voice by his side said, "Hi, can I sit here? The empty bleachers kinda freak me out and I don't wanna sit with those." A white gloved hand pointed to Alex and some other friends of the guys who were grouped together. 

Even though Frank looked at the girl, he was only able to see a pair of almond-shaped, brown eyes and half a wide nose. She had more clothes on than he did, complete with a scarf covering the rest of her face and a woolen cap buried past her eyebrows.

Frank could only offer the bundled-up girl a small smile and a nod of his head, still too distracted by thoughts of home and hot chocolate near the heater.

"Are you someone's girlfriend too?" the girl spoke again.

That got Frank's attention; not the fact that she had addressed him in the feminine form, but the word. It gave him a weird feeling he couldn't identify. "Uh...no, just a friend," he replied.

The girl gasped. "Oh...God, I'm sorry. You're not a girl." She giggled nervously, then added doubtfully, "Are you?"

Frank scratched his head under the furry hood. He hated that question, but guessed "I'm a Frankie Iero" wasn't a proper answer after all. "No... Or well, a little bit, too? It's okay, I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"So, whose friend are you?" she resumed her original questioning, her eyes on the boys running around the sport field. She was clearly more into it than Frank was -which really wasn't hard. 

"Mostly Gerard Way, and James Dewees, but I get along pretty well with a few others too."

The girl threw Frank a quick glance before going back to watching the action. "Oh! Way, uh? Heard a lot 'bout him. School-famous dad, big new promise. Won't you hit me if I tell you my opinion of him?"

Frank had no idea what to say to that. "As a player, you mean?"

"Yes, yes, as a player of course!"

"Then go head, I don't understand anything about football, so..."

She frowned a little, probably wondering what he was doing there. "No matter what my boyfriend and his friends say, I don't think Way's good at all. I don't know how they can be so blind. I've grown up among football players, so I know my shit. Yet, they get pissed off at me when I tell them!"

Frank had to bite his tongue to not blurt out, "Oh, so it _does_ show that Gerard's bullshitting?" Instead he shrugged and said, "Like I told you, I wouldn't know."

"I think he's been getting better lately, though. Wow, look at him. He's on fire tonight!" She signaled, sounding surprised.

Now that he actually took some time to watch the game, Frank also perceived a difference in Gerard from the other few times he'd seen him play. For starters, he was moving faster. Even with his lack of football knowledge, Frank thought it looked like Gerard was enjoying it; although knowing him, the change was probably more due to feeling frozen than on fire. "Seems so! Uh...I'm kinda curious..."

"Vicky," the girl supplied.

"Frank. Or Frankie," he reciprocated before continuing, "Who's your boyfriend?"

"Brian!"

"Blond Brian or brunette Brian?" Frank inquired.

Vicky seemed to find his method of identification funny. "The...brunette one, with the difficult last name?"

"Ah, good!" The relief Frank felt almost made him mention how the other Brian was an asshole, but he thought it was prudent to keep it to himself just in case Vicky liked him. He also wanted to ask her if she couldn't say her boyfriend's last name either, but he refrained once again.


	21. Chapter 21

By the time the coach declared the practice over, Gerard couldn't feel the cold anymore; except for when he'd breathe too deep. He had never played football that actively before. Admittedly, he hadn't been very aware of what he was doing, yet he hadn't heard any complaints. All the contrary, the guys sounded oddly sincere this time when they expressed how awesome he'd been.

Quickly thanking the compliments the coach and his mates paid him, Gerard headed for the bleachers. He was glad to see that Frank had apparently made friends with Brian's girlfriend. At least he'd had someone to talk to instead of boring his ass off on top of freezing. Vicky was a pretty cool girl, and often sneaked into practices. 

Gerard also smiled when noticing that the younger boy was all wrapped up in his coat. "Not cold, uh?" He laughed to himself.  

As Vicky got up and ran to Brian, Frank walked to Gerard with a smirk on his face. "Decided you loved football, Way?"

"Decided I didn't want to freeze to death."

"I knew it!" Frank giggled. "It's obvious you do have it in you, though."

Gerard frowned. He had never considered he could be actually _good_ , nor did he care. "You think?"

"Me? You know I'm clueless, I just saw you moving faster." Frank attempted to shrug -or that's what it looked like to Gerard, but the layers of clothes didn't let him do it properly. His nose was red and his eyes watery. Gerard was worrying about him again. "Vicky thinks. That you've been playing better, I mean. You never fooled her, though; she said you're no great player."

"Oh fuck, but..."

"Don't worry," Frank interrupted, "the guys got pissed off at her when she told them."

"Good."

"Oh, almost forget! Take your coat." Frank reached to pull it off him, but Gerard stopped him. The kid needed it more.

"Keep it, I'm not cold."

"Don't be cheesy, Gerard, I'm not your girlfriend," Frank told him laughing. "Besides, you don't _feel_ the cold now but it's even worse for your health when you're all sweaty. You'll get sick."

"No, you're not my _girlfriend_..." The word felt strange. And where had that comment come from, anyway? "But you're my friend, and you get sick more easily _. Keep_ it."

"Gerard..." Frank insisted, the coat hanging from his arm as he did his best to hide the shaking. 

Gerard wasn't fooled, and the situation called for some speed-thinking. He grabbed his backpack and unzipped it, retrieving a thicker hoodie than the one he was wearing. It didn't smell too good, he suspected. "I'll put this on and you keep the coat, deal?"

Frank rolled his eyes, but snuggled back into the coat without delay. "Deal, but then you stay until I leave so I can give it back to you."

"But your mom's picking you guys up, right?"

That gained Gerard a funny look from Frank. "You think she'd let me walk home with this temperature?"

"Stupid question, sorry."

"So, you're staying?"

"I wasn't going anywhere, Frankie. By the way, if you wanna catch the Phillips you better run..." Gerard pointed to the two boys who were crossing the field entrance.

Frank sprinted off shouting, "Brandon! Adam! Wait!" as Gerard followed him at a lower pace, fighting to get his stinky hoodie on.

"Oh, Frankie. Hi!" Brandon greeted him, pushing his jacket's zipper up all the way to his chin. "I didn't know you were still here. Cold as fuck..."

Frank didn't waste any time. "I had to talk to you two."

Adam ran a hand through his dark hair, appearing confused. "You froze your ass to talk to us?" 

"Told him it was a stupid idea," said Gerard.

"It's _important_ ," Frank stressed.

"Wow, okay kid!" Adam raised his hands. "Fill us in, then. Just...quickly 'cause Bran's car's broken so I told dad to pick us up."

When Frank was about to speak, he was interrupted by a grinning James tapping the back of his head. He was followed by an annoyed-looking Ray.

"Move your ass, bug," Ray demanded, "mom's waiting and we also have to drop Dewees."

His brother didn't stay there any longer, but Frank still shouted, "I told mom to give me a while, shut it!"

"Ignore him, take your time." James shrugged, then jogged after Ray.

After they were gone, Frank turned back to the Phillips, who kept waiting for him to talk.

Brandon patted at least three of his pockets until he found a packet of cigarettes. He fished out one and lighted it up with ease before leaning down to look Frank in the eyes. "Something wrong, Frankie?" he spoke out of the side of his mouth as he released the smoke.

"Kinda." Frank hesitated, sounding nervous. He finally let it all out at once. "Did you know your _friends_ fuck with Zach too? Know that they beat him up rather badly today?" 

If the situation was different, Gerard would have laughed at the way Brandon and Adam looked at each other and then back at Frank with their mouths hanging open.

"What?" Brandon exclaimed. "But he said..."

"He said he got into a fight with a classmate," Adam completed.

"And you believed him." Frank sighed. "It's not the first time. You've surely seen him with a black eye or a split lip before. You _had_ to."

"Well yeah, but we never..." Gerard's stared at Brandon in a way that said he wasn't believing his shit, so he stopped.

"Don't tell me you never put two and two together, Phillips. You know the shit your friends do."

"They're not our friends," Adam corrected.

"You dissimulate it very well..." Frank mumbled.

Brandon raised his palms this time. "Look. Matt said they'd leave Zach alone. We never saw anything and our brother always insisted that it hadn't been them when he'd show up hurt. Every fucking time. We _asked_ him, trust me. So how could we know?"

"They fucking threatened him with getting you both kicked out of the team, that's why he denies it!" Frank raised his voice.

"Son of bitches..." Adam whispered, air coming out of his nostrils noisily.

"You have to do something." Gerard shook his head. It was all so fucked up. How could those two trust Matt and company? 

Brandon rested a hand on his brother's back while he spoke into his ear. Then he addressed Frank. "We...we'll see what we can do. I mean...we'll talk to the guys and...keep a closer eye on Zach, I guess."

"But..."

"I'm sorry, Frank, we really have to go," Adam apologized. "But thanks _a lot_ for letting us know."

"You're welcome," Frank let out, his humid eyes blinking rapidly in the cold air. As the brothers walked away, he sniffed and turned to Gerard. "That's all?"

"Totally not worth you freezing."

"Something's up with them, though."

Gerard nodded. "Yeah, I think so too."

"You'll try to find out, won't you?"

"Of course, captain Iero!"

"Hey!" Frank pushed at Gerard with his shoulder. "Don't sound so resigned. You _can_ say no. But...we're in the cause together, remember?"

"Aye! I'll force them to tell me something, don't worry. Now move your frozen ass, I'll walk you to your mom's car."

"So I can give you your coat back."

"So you can give me the damn coat back, yes."

"We'll drive you home, too," Frank stated as they made their way out of the football field.

Gerard was going to make a comment about how Frank looked like an adorable _burnt_ marshmallow this time, but decided to escape the punch he knew would come. "Frankie...I live only two blocks from here and you don't even have to go that way."

"Ah, true."


	22. Chapter 22

Frank didn't have hot chocolate near the heater when he got home; it was a little late for that. He did get, however, a delicious, steaming bowl of pumpkin soup for dinner. He enriched the welcoming delicacy with tons of cheese and hurried to start eating before it went cold. His parents and brother seemed to have the same idea in mind, since no one was talking at first. Not even the TV and whatever Talk Show was on distracted them from their task. The two males of the house were making quite a lot of noise, and Frank considered commenting on their lack of table manners, but that would have required him to stop eating. Not an option if he could avoid it.

It was Ray who broke the perfect moment. "Frank...can you tell me what you were doing at the practice, or after?"

Frank didn't even look at his brother, entertained with the thread of cheese that extended from the plate to his spoon. He raised the spoon as high as his arm reached until the thread broke, then he sucked the remains off the silver utensil into his mouth as if it was a noodle. Doing so was probably frown upon when it came to table etiquette -he thought, but he had been at least silent; not like others. 

"Frank..." Ray insisted.

"No, I can't," the younger mumbled into his glass of water.

"You can't...what?"

Frank sighed, looking at his brother sideways. "Tell you what you asked me."

"Why?"

"Because."

Ray's face showed that Frank had succeeded at annoying him. "Whatever," he said with a shrug. After that he grabbed the remote control and turned the TV volume up.

Frank knew that was Ray's way to shun him when he pissed him off. Their parents didn't complain, which was another sign of how lost in their meal they were.

Frank spent some seconds watching Ray's arm carry soup to his mouth blindly, like a robot. The speed and precision were amazing. Soon he returned to his own plate, but another voice calling his name interrupted him again.

"Frankie, would you pass me the salt, please?" his father requested.

The boy laughed. "Dad, you're almost finished. _Now_ you realize it needed more salt?"

"Guess he only now calmed down and started eating like a person!" Linda said with a laugh of her own.

Anthony rolled his eyes. "Can I have it, please?"

"Don't use much, gotta watch your pressure," Frank advised as he complied.

"Thanks, sweetheart." His dad smiled warmly at him.

A loud sigh could be heard coming from Linda before she said, "Tony, do you think that's a proper word for a father to call his teenage _boy_?"

The woman accompanied the rhetorical question with a mocking gesture, surely wanting to mask it as a joke. Frank knew it wasn't. She was always accusing Anthony of encouraging Frank's attitude and mannerisms and discrediting her in front of him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" the man asked with frustration.

Linda huffed. " _Sweetheart_ , really?"

"It's just a common pet name for someone you love, and I felt like using it with my kid. Do I _really_ need to justify myself for that?"

"What you need to do is think before you speak," Linda raised his voice. "I keep telling Frank to try and act a little less femininely and then you go and call him 'sweetheart'. How is the poor kid supposed to know what to do? You're probably the one who confused him with the way you've always treated him!"

"No he's not," Frank barely whispered. He hated to participate in those discussions. He felt bad enough for being the cause.

"You're making no sense, Linda. Please, let's stop this and have dinner in peace. We're only upsetting him and he doesn't deserve it." Anthony struggled to keep his voice at a normal level, and Frank was thankful for that.

His mother, though, had a problem to control hers. "We wouldn't need to have these arguments if you agreed to address the subject instead of escaping every time!"

"But you already know what I think! I won't agree with you!"

It was the violent screech of a chair across the floor that made the couple shut up. All eyes were drawn to Ray, who stood near the table breathing heavily.

"Why don't you just divorce? Then you could each raise Frank however the fuck you want and bitch at each other on the phone and I wouldn't have hear you argue all the time," he roared.

"Ray, son, I..." Linda spoke softly now, a hand reaching out for her older's hair.

He took a step back, avoiding her. "You're always arguing because of him, _always_!"

"I don't think it's fair to say we're always arguing..." Anthony said.

"Maybe not, but when you do, it's always 'cause of Frank," Ray retorted. "And _that_ is what's not fair. It's not my business and I don't want to hear it!"

"Please..." Linda tried again.

"Leave me alone, mom! All of you!" 

Once Ray left the dinning room, no one dared say a word. Frank was aware of the burning guilt in his parents' eyes as they looked at each other and then at him, but he had nothing to tell them. Nothing new, nothing that could solve a thing. Ray was right; those arguments happened because of him. Frank may not have done anything wrong or to purposely upset his parents -and he knew they'd never blame him, yet he was the cause of all their fights. However, he was conscious that it was _their_ problem, not his. He couldn't, and wouldn't change who he was because of them. His mom needed to learn to deal; his dad to maybe be more patient and help her.

Frank heated up his -by now cold- remaining soup in the microwave and finished it in silence, excusing himself afterwards to go study for the next day's lesson.

*******

As Frank neared his bed, he patted himself in the back for having remembered to grab his favorite winter pajamas earlier and put them under his pillow for quicker access. It had taken him too long to get warm enough to fall asleep the night before in his thinner ones. His mom tended to always set the heater either too high or not high enough. Ironically, the level of heat appeared to be inversely proportional to the closeness of Winter. Thankfully for Frank, he had his flannel pajamas which, besides being extremely cozy, were also pretty cool-looking. They were white and covered in musical notes of all colors, mixed up with some likewise colorful guitars.

Once ready and leaving only the lamp on his nightstand on, Frank got under the many covers with his biology book in hand. He usually did pretty well at oral lessons with what he learned in class, but those last days had given him a lot to think about and distract him. He wasn't that confident that he would still be able to talk about bacterias and viruses with ease, so a reread sounded like a wise choice. It was also a good way to avoid thinking about what had happened at the table.

At some point, after he made a pause to listen to a couple of songs in his iPad, Frank got the feeling that he was forgetting something else he was supposed to do. That was uncommon for him. He kept on reading anyway, not wanting to lose time. 

He had already revised the lesson twice and was still trying to recall what his mind had misplaced when there was a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" He thought it was probably one of his parents wanting to survey the damage.

"It's me," said Ray's squeaky voice. Well, that was a surprise.

Frank left his bed grudgingly, running for the spare blanket over a chair as soon as he felt the change of temperature.

He opened the door and looked up at his also pajama-clad brother expectantly. He wasn't really mad at Ray; he understood. He just felt somewhat hurt by some things Ray had said. Or _how_ he had said them. Especially about his parents.

By the way Ray fidgeted guiltily, he had -no doubt- taken conscience of that. "Can I come in and talk to you, princess?"

With that, Frank let go of all resistance and stepped aside to let his brother in. He smiled to himself as he closed the door right after.

To probably anyone but Marina, what Ray had called him would mean he was mocking him like he did at school when he called him "my sister". But Frank knew the difference, what hid behind those words. How opposite they were, in a way, when it was Ray using them.

When Ray called Frank his "sister", even if to pretend in front of his friends, what Frank heard was: "What is supposed to be my brother but doesn't look or act like it, so let's just call it that." On the other hand, when it was "princess" that fell from his brother's lips, to Frank it meant: "I don't care what you are, you're my little sibling and I love you, and I'll call you whatever cute pet name I feel like calling you when no one can hear us."

Plus, Frank might not be as good as Gerard at reading people's gestures, but the contrast between the annoying roll of Ray's eyes with "sister" and the kind, affectionate raise of his eyebrows with "princess", was a little hard to miss.

Ray spoke as soon as Frank turned to him. "I'm sorry, Frankie. I'm so, so sorry..." He was sitting on the bed, hands clasped tight in between his legs. His eyes were red, like the tears now falling weren't the first. "I didn't meant to blame you."

"I know."

"It's not your fault that they can't agree, it never really is. You've done nothing wrong, I-"

"I know, Ray," Frank repeated. "I know you don't really blame me. And I understand how you feel, believe me. They-"

"No! But..." Ray shook his head and screwed up his face. He looked so mortified that Frank had to reach up and ran a hand through his messy curly hair.

"Shh, it's okay, I get it," he cooed.

"I don't actually want them to divorce," Ray sobbed. "I swear Frankie, I don't."

Frank was relieved. He hadn't been sure whether or not Ray had meant that part earlier. Not knowing what else to say, he threw his arms around the crying boy.

As they clung to each other for dear life, Frank asked shyly in Ray's ear, "Do you ever wish mom had stayed with your dad?" He had always been afraid to ask. And then after Ray's dad moved out of the state, Frank had tried not to mention him much at all.

Ray undid the hug to stare at Frank like he was crazy. "Hell, no!"

"No?"

"Course not! I was only two when mom married Anthony, and he's been a better dad than my own could've ever been. And a much better husband too. My dad's a jerk, Frankie, you _know_ that..."

"I know, but I thought..." 

"I've always been thankful that mom left him, believe me. Besides, if she hadn't married Tony, she wouldn't have had you. What would I do without an annoying bug of dubious sex like you, uh?"

Frank frowned. "The fuck? There's nothing dubious about my _sex_ , you buttface! If it wasn't so cold I'd pull down my pants, case you forgot that I have balls and a dick."

Ray made a disgusted face. "Thank fuck for cold, then. And I'm sorry, it was just a..." He stopped, scratching his head in thought. "How do you call it when it's like a typo...but you're speaking instead of typing?"

The younger brought an open hand to his face with force. It was late and he was too tired for that. "Ignorance, you call it _ignorance_ ," he spat irksomely.

"Oh, gimme a break!" Ray groaned, letting himself fall back on the bed. "You're an annoying -pain-in-the-ass annoying- bug of dubious _gender._ That better?"

Frank could have protested harder but...Ray's eyebrows were raised in that affectionate way that warmed Frank's heart. "Yeah, makes a lot more sense..."

"Jesus. Your bed. I'd forgotten how awesome it is."

The mention of his bed and the reminder of how comfortable it was, made Frank feel suddenly twice as tired. Mentally counting to three, he got rid of the blanket he was cocooned in and speed-crawled to the head of the bed. Ray instantly got up to let him get under the covers.

Buried in them up to his nose, Frank saw his brother standing there with an air of unsureness.

"We're okay, Ray. Relax," he reassured him. "Just...you should maybe talk to them tomorrow. You know, apologize for what-"

"Oh yeah I...I will, promise." Ray scratched his head again, eyes fixed on the glossy wooden floor. "Okay. G'night, princess." He lifted his face to give his younger brother a smile, then turned to leave.

Frank had the urge to shot one arm out of the covers and seize a leg of Ray's checkered pajama pants. "Wanna stay here?"

"Uh?"

"You used to let me sleep in your bed when I was upset or scared. I think you need it tonight. And...you get to enjoy my awesome bed you envy so much."

Ray's meditative face was only a facade, Frank knew. It only took him five seconds to kick off his slippers and occupy the space his brother had made for him under the covers. "Just...don't tell the guys."

"Don't give me a reason." Frank turned his back on Ray and smirked. "Goodnight, fucker."

"Frankie?" Ray's voice pulled him back when he was at the brink of sleep.

"What do you want?" he whined, not caring to turn on the light. It's not like he didn't know what his brother's face looked like.

"What were you up to at the practice?"

"Again with that?"

"Yes," Ray said firmly.

Frank emitted a pained sound. "I needed to tell the Phillips that their 'friends' had beaten the shit out of their brother earlier, okay? That's all I have to say." There was no way he was going to mention his and Gerard's mission or detail the conversation they'd had with Brandon and Adam. Ray would be on him like a hawk if he knew he was sticking his nose into those matters.

"But Matt said..."

"Yeah. Matt says a lot of bullshit. And why does he have so much influence on the couch, anyway?" Frank didn't have much hopes that his brother would tell him how Matt managed to get some guys kicked out of the team in the past, but he had to try.

"Why do you ask that now?" Ray sounded curious and a little nervous.

"Doesn't matter. Why?"

"I have no idea, I swear." Now his tone denoted honesty. He would be no help. "Guess 'cause he's the best player? Until Gerard came, at least." 

Frank snorted at that last comment. "Yeah, right."

"What?"

"Goodnight, Ray. School tomorrow, remember?" Frank yawned to make a point.

"Yeah, yeah. God forbid you miss your precious school. Goodnight."


	23. Chapter 23

Biology was on the first period; the first two periods, to be more exact. Not an ideal situation when you'd fallen asleep later than usual and woken up half an hour earlier freaking out about a lesson. The two aspirins Frank had taken with breakfast had only _partially_ gotten rid of his headache, and he could feel its imminent comeback at full force thanks to Benny. The kid, who sat next to Frank, wouldn't stop drumming his fingers on the beige formica of his desk as he stared out of the window absentmindedly.

"Benny! Stop that!" Frank whispered harshly, but the boy didn't even seem to notice him.   
  
Truth be told, Benny rarely noticed or connected with anyone. He acted indifferent to everything surrounding him, which was probably why he'd had no problem sitting with Frank when no one else would. No matter what you told Benny, he usually just shrugged, smiled and said something like, "Yeah whatever, dude." He was actually nice when you managed to have a conversation with him, but that rarely happened.

After minutes and minutes of the brain-puncturing noise, Mrs. Dennison got apparently fed up with it too. She looked up from her text-book and glared at the annoying student before shouting, "Benjamin!" When the boy jumped on his seat she added, "Will you _stop_ that noise already, or do I have to send you out?"

The addressed one flinched and blushed, his black fringe hiding his eyes. Frank guessed it was more due to his full name being screamed out than the reprimand.

"Uh. Sorry," Benny said quickly. "I'm a drummer so it's just a habit, didn't realize I was doing it."

The apology didn't impress the teacher. "Well, this is no concert. And since you seem so bored, you'll be the first to speak to the class about the assigned lesson."

"Ouch," was all Benny had to say as he got up with his head hung low.

The boy seemed to have studied, but oral lessons weren't his forte; Frank could barely hear what he was mumbling. Mrs. Dennison got tired quickly and told Benny to go sit with a "Fine, that's enough."

As the teacher kept calling names and more students walked to the front of the class to speak about the subject and show their diagrams, Frank took notice of Zach across from him. He looked tired and pallid, the injures from the day before sticking out in a sickly purple tone.

Frank felt a pang of sympathy and talked to the boy in a hushed voice. "Hey Zach, you okay?"

"Perfect," the other responded with more weariness than irony.

"Will you tell me what's _really_ going on with your brothers and those assholes?" Frank pressed.

Zach didn't reply, he just continued to stare blankly at the white-board.

"Zach?"

"Iero! Phillips!" Mrs. Dennison exclaimed all of a sudden. "Show more respect for your classmates!"

"Sorry," Frank muttered.

Not a sound came from Zach. Frank thought it was because he was mad at him for getting him in trouble, but then he saw the evil smile the teacher was giving the boy. Evil. That woman enjoyed making students squirm in fear.

"Since I already have your attention, Phillips...your turn." She smiled even wider.

One glance at Zach's terrified face was enough for Frank to know the other hadn't studied at all. Thinking fast, he raised his hand, waving it slightly. "Mrs. Dennison?"

"Yes, Iero?"

"Zach doesn't feel well. That's what we were talking about," Frank lied.

"Silence!" the teacher appeased the chorus of murmurs and giggles -and usual occurrence every time Frank spoke in class, then frowned at Zach. "Why didn't you tell me, Phillips?"

"He was afraid you'd think it was an excuse, ma'am," Frank answered for him.

"Well, he does look sick..." the blond woman opined. "And hurt. Do you need to go see the nurse, kid?"

Zach shook his head slowly. "Can I just close my eyes here for a while?"

The evil teacher's features had softened now. "Yes, of course. But have the lesson ready for next class."

Frank looked at his watch. They were already in the middle of the second period. He was prepared for the lesson and didn't want to have to wait until next class if they ran out of time in this one. Especially since the next class was _after Winter break_. The woman would probably drink all the eggnog and forget.

He raised his hand once again. "Mrs. Dennison, can I be next?"

The teacher sighed tediously. "I have no doubt that you know the lesson, Iero. But, if you wish..."

"I do!" he replied happily, grabbing the poster with the diagram Ray had drawn for him in a hurry before school. 

That morning, Frank had woken up his poor brother to the scream of  "Differences in the basic structure of plant and animal cells! The fucking diagram! I forgot the fucking diagram, Ray! How _could_ I?!" Ray had looked murderous at first, but upon seeing Frank's desperation he had veered him towards the door and said, "Go get ready, I'll do your damn diagram." Frank didn't like the idea of Ray being late to school because of him, but the older had assured him that he couldn't care less. Ray was a great brother when he wanted to.

As Frank walked to the front of the class, the laughter resumed. Without bothering to turn around, he flexed his free arm behind his back and gave them all a wiggly middle finger.

******

No matter how hard he tried, Gerard just couldn't pay attention to whatever book the English teacher was reading a passage from. His head had been somewhere else since first period, when he bumped into the football coach in the halls. Gerard still didn't know how to feel about the news he had been given; he was only certain that his dad would love it.

Something different was distracting him now, though.

While Mrs. Reid paced up and down the space between the white-board and the students' desks, Gerard's eyes were turned towards the back of the classroom. There, at one of the desks from the last line, sat Brandon. The guy wasn't looking at the teacher either. He seemed lost in though, elbows on the table and hands supporting his head. 

There was something going on with the Phillips. Gerard was sure that they were hiding something and he was determined to find out what it was. He usually wouldn't poke about other people's private matters, but he had a hunch. What the Phillips hid could be helpful for his and Frank's cause.

With very slow movements as to not alert the teacher, Gerard ripped a sheet of paper off his notebook and wrote a message on it: "Come on, tell me what's up with you guys and Matt? I know there's something else, you acted weird yesterday with Frank."   
   
Next, he tapped James on the shoulder. Dewees was either very fascinated by what Mrs. Reid was reading, or totally immersed in his intergalactic fantasies. Either way, it took Gerard a while to get him to react.

"You're good with flying objects...could you make a plane with this and aim it to Brandon?" Gerard whispered.

James looked as happy as if he had been entrusted with building an actual spaceship. "Of course, G-man!"

"Speak lower!"

"Silence, boys!" Mrs. Reid exclaimed; but she continued to read without dwelling on the interruption.

James' hands worked fast, and he had the paper plane done in less than a minute. Checking to ensure the teacher was facing the opposite side of the room at the moment, he closed one eye, took aim and released the missile. Gerard watched in awe as the plane flew across the room in an impeccable manner and hit the side of Brandon's head, falling on his desk.

Brandon didn't even scan the room for the offender. He directed his scowl to James without hesitation. Gerard took the chance to sign to Brandon to unfold the piece of paper.

Unsure, Brandon did as instructed, rubbing his forehead as he read the message. He didn't seem happy, but Gerard could see him write something on the other side of the paper. He just hoped it wasn't a "Fuck you".

Using the marks from where it had been folded before, it was no problem for Brandon to turn the paper into a plane again. He, however, didn't have James' skills to launch it. The plane plummeted to the floor before reaching its destination. Brandon grunted loudly, which made the teacher turn around. It was James who saved the moment by sprinting off his chair and picking up the plane before the old woman could see what it was.

"I'm sorry. It flied off my desk," he told Mrs. Reid, showing her a rubber instead.

" _You_ should stop flying during my classes, Mr. Dewees," she retorted.

"I was listening!" James argued; but the teacher had once again gone back to reading.

Gerard now thought it was maybe a whole book she was reading and not just a passage, judging by how long it was taking her. He still had no idea what it was about, though. Or the name. Or the author. He honestly didn't care at the moment. 

He took the paper plane from where James had left it under his desk and unfolded it. The block letters on it looked angry, but Brandon had thankfully not cursed him. It said,  "Ok, stay here after the class, I'll text Adam."


	24. Chapter 24

Right after the bell was heard, Adam entered the classroom. As the rest of the students either left or dispersed, Gerard got up and met him and Brandon at the back.

"Let's do this quick," Brandon said. "We gotta make it to our next classes and I also don't want Matt to suspect."

Gerard followed the other's gaze and saw Matt talking to John by the door. He nodded. "Just...please tell me what the deal is. You know Matt won't hear a thing from me."

"Okay," Adam started, taking a deep breath.  "About a year ago, we went to the locker room before practice and someone had written a message for Matt on the blackboard there..."

"What did it say?" Gerard asked.

"It said: 'Confirmed. The Phillips kid is a fag.'"

Gerard frowned at Adam in confusion. "Well, but...Zach told Frank that he's not gay..."

The two brothers looked at each other with an odd expression, their eyes shifting nervously. Gerard figured they could somehow communicate without words like he and Mikey sometimes did.

After a while Adam stuttered, "He's not," and lowered his eyes apprehensively.

Gerard didn't need them to say more. For someone as observant as him, Adam's gestures had spoken books. Meditating about the information he had gotten, Gerard guessed whoever had written that message was only concerned about the Phillips who were part of the team. That made Adam the younger; the _kid_. But since Matt wasn't a thinker, he hadn't interpreted it that way.

He needed to confirm his theory. "Oh...so, Matt thought it was about Zach, but..."

"...it was about me," Adam completed. "I'm the one who's gay."

"And you didn't tell him?"

Brandon interceded for his brother. "Adam motioned for me to shut up and honestly...I was afraid of what would happen if Matt knew. We don't know why the couch does whatever the hell Matt says, and Matt won't tell us, but you've already heard about the kids he got him to kick out of the team."

"But you sold your brother to those bullies to save your asses, then!" Gerard couldn't believe what he had heard. How could the team be _that_ important to them?

The bell rang again and other students began to slowly fill the classroom, so the three boys made their way out of it.

Stopping next to a drinking fountain, Adam grabbed Gerard's arm and brought him closer so they could continue to speak. "We didn't sell Zach. We thought Matt'd do nothing to him. We _demanded_ that they left him alone and they said they would!"

"Well, they didn't!" Gerard pointed out.

"We already told you and Frankie that we didn't know it'd been them who did that to Zach," Brandon said in a shaky voice. Gerard could tell they felt guilty now that they knew, and stupid for not having thought of it before. Maybe they were finally ready to do something about it.

"You guys need to clear that up with Matt...face that fucker!"

"Not sure I have the balls, sorry," Adam declared, walking away before Gerard could say anything in return.

"Don't," Brandon stopped Gerard from following him. "Adam's just scared. I'll try to convince him; but even if I can't, I'll see what we can do. Promise." He then ran after his brother, leaving Gerard standing there wondering what was so great about some fucking school sport team. 

******

Later on, after the last period, Gerard met Frank in the bathroom. It had become a habit to wait for the younger boy to take off his make up and then leave the school together; even if they then went their separate ways sometimes.

He had several things to tell Frank, but decided to start with the one he cared the least about: the F the English teacher had added to his file for failing to answer any of the questions about that yet-unknown-to-him book.

Frank mentioned his unsurprising A in Biology very quickly, then proceeded to freak out about Gerard's F as if it was the end of the world. It took some convincing, but Gerard finally made Frank see that it wasn't very important and he could easily fix it by actually paying attention from now on. Those had been especial circumstances. His mission had weighted more than school obligations. In the end, Frank blushed and admitted that he sometimes took school too seriously. Gerard laughed and agreed, but really just found it cute.

Once Frank eased up on his school fanaticism, he seemed pensive. "Oh but then...you got something out of Adam and Brandon at least?" he asked, tucking the package of make-up remover wipes into his backpack. Several voices could be still heard outside, so they didn't move to leave. "'Cause I failed with Zach."

"Well, you succeeded with the lesson, so it's a tie," Gerard joked. "Yeah, got them to speak."

As Gerard told Frank everything he had learned from Adam and Brandon, the younger one's features hardened progressively. His hands gripped the sink behind him so tightly that his knuckles went white and his whole arms were shaking. When Gerard ran a hand through his back and dared tell him to calm down, Frank went on a rant about how the Phillips were worse than his brother. His hands now alternated between flailing around madly and hitting anything within his reach. 

"I'll fucking...kick their asses to a pulp. And Matt's. And the asses of everyone who agrees with them or does nothing to stop them. Then I'll fucking _burn_ the fucking football field, and the bleachers, and..."

"Frankie..."

"How can they care about the fucking team more than their brother?" Frank continued to let out his indignation. 

"It's not that, they just thought-"

"No excuses!"

Gerard wanted to stop his friend before his anger escalated and he decided to go find the guys and attack them; or committed school vandalism. Both of them knew Frank was no fighter. Neither was Gerard, for that matter. 

He resorted to the only thing he could think of: a change of subject. "In other news, the coach told me I'm part of the team."

Frank stilled. All the anger abandoned his face and he lifted one eyebrow with what Gerard read as confusion. "But...weren't you part of the team already?"

"In a way, yeah. But now I'm like... _in_ the team," Gerard tried an explanation. Seeing Frank just blink at him, he added, "I mean, I'm gonna actually _play_ at the game. Whenever that is after Winter break."

"Oh." Frank's eyes grew wide. "Congratulations, Gee!"

Gerard just stared at the grinning boy deadpan. Had Frank heard _any_ happiness in his voice?Had he not ever listened to what he had been saying about the team and football in general practically since they met?

Frank must have caught on Gerard's lack of response and seen his mistake, because his face fell and he said, "Right. No good news to you. Sorry, wrong reaction."

"It's okay." Gerard gave Frank a smile to show him he wasn't angry. "Your reaction was the normal one for these kind of news. I guess I should think of it as something good too, since I bother to go to the practices and all that shit. It's just...I feel more and more like a liar..."

"But you do know how to play, that's not a lie."

"Yeah, but...I don't _want_ to be playing," Gerard noted with a slight whine. "Not fair for those who do!"

Frank nodded understandingly. "Now that you mention it, you being _in_ means someone was left _out_ of the game."

"Yes, Brian. The _good_ Brian."

" _Fuck._ "

"Fuck indeed. He told me it's okay, that he doesn't mind. But I feel like and asshole. Makes me wanna say the truth and-"

"No!" Frank let out. "Not yet! Tried to w-"

"Hey!" came a man's voice from outside together with a strong knock. "Whoever is in there, the building closes in two minutes! Out!"

The two boys ran to open the door and then out of the bathroom, past the irritated janitor. They made it outside of the building thinking everybody else had left, but were surprised to be almost tackled by an excited James.

"Guys! Guys! My mom just gave me the total okay in a text!" he announced.

Frank tilted his head, looking up at James' shit-eating grin. "Uh?"

"The okay...to _what_?" asked Gerard. It was one of the many occasions when James lost him.

"Oh...I never told you?" James frowned, then mumbled to himself, "Why in the milky way did I not..."

"No, you didn't tell me..."

"Ahh right!" He hit his head. "I wanted it to be a surprise, that's why. Costume party at my house this Saturday!"

"J...it's near Christmas, not Halloween," Frank pointed out.

"Always so enlightening, Frankie-boy! You are correct. But mom didn't let me have the house for Halloween 'cause they were painting. So...you're both invited, of course. 8pm, don't forget! You've three days to find costumes. Enough, so get on it!"

"Excuse me," said Steven, suddenly appearing from behind James and resting an elbow on his shoulder. "Did you just invite the fairy to your party?"

James turned around abruptly, bringing Steve close to falling down without his support. "A fairy? Nope, just Gerard and Frankie," he answered. Next he waved at the small group and walked away with a spring in his steps.


	25. Chapter 25

That afternoon, Frank sat on his bed with his legs crossed, mentally recapitulating the day. In his hands was his old lion plushie Sammie. The toy had been a gift from his grandma Lillian when he turned three, and they had been inseparable for years. As he grew up he had, at some point, stopped carrying Sammie everywhere, but the little lion had remained a very important part of him. Reaching out for it was like a reflex action for Frank whenever he got lost inside his head. Regardless of what was going in there, brushing Sammie's mane with his fingers helped him think and kept him concentrated. There wasn't much hair left after twelve years, but Frank still tugged at the short tufts or wrapped the tail around his finger sometimes.

Next to Frank lied Marina, humming some familiar melody. Frank could tell she was bored; he knew that any minute now she would ask him why he had invited her there if he wasn't going to talk. Then Frank would once again try to explain that he simply liked her company, even when he didn't have much to say. Silences were never uncomfortable with Marina. Not to Frank at least; Marina was more impatient.

He felt his friend shift around and huff before her head landed on his shoulder. Frank rested his own head on hers, exhaling loudly.

"What's wrong, short thing?" Marina asked at last. The way Frank could feel her voice reverberating inside her head was lulling. He might fall asleep if he stayed like that for too long.

"Nothing, just tired."

"Oh, come on! That's what you always tell your parents when you don't wanna talk. Won't work with me, Frankie..."

Frank chuckled, making Marina shake with him. "I know, but it's true this time. Busy day, not enough sleep. Sorry I'm not too chatty."

"But Fraaaank, I'm bored!" she protested, collapsing back down with a thump. None of them said anything else for a while.

When Frank turned his body to check what Marina was up to, he was alarmed to see that she had Merlin the giraffe in her grip, strangling it; twisting its long, delicate neck with her cruel hands. Merlin was another one of Frank's favorite plushies and it also matched his bed cover pretty well -maybe due to the fact that giraffes and zebras got along famously. People were _not_ allowed to mess with Merlin. Not even Frank's best friend.

"Stop that!" Frank shrieked. "Give it back!"

Marina grinned teasingly, tightening her grip on the toy's neck. " _I_ gave it to you, so..."

"That gives you no right to torture it, woman! Give it back!" Frank let go of Sammy and jumped on his friend, trying to snatch the giraffe off her hands. The girl was quicker, though, and rolled on her stomach, trapping Merlin under her weight.

Lying across Marina's back, Frank dug around, wanting to sneak his hands between her and the bed to rescue the plushie. He knew it'd tickle, which was a plus. Marina giggled like mad and pushed at him, but didn't give up.

"Gimme Merlin, bitch!" Frank joined in with the giggling.

"Th-then stop mopping around, you diva!"

"I wasn't!"

"You...you weren't talking!" Marina breathed out with difficulty. "And get off me!"

"Okay." Frank lifted himself off her, panting some. "There's actually something I need your help with. But first..." He extended his right hand.

Marina gave the giraffe back and Frank quickly attended to it, massaging the neck to readjust the stuffing. "You poor baby."

"You know it's not real, don't you?" The girl laughed. Frank just glared. "So? I'm waiting."

"James Dewees invited me to a costume party this Saturday," Frank gave out.

"Like...with all the older boys?"

"Yep."

"Before Christmas?" She frowned.

Frank gave a lazy, slow nod. "He said they were painting the house around Halloween."

"And you had _this_ to tell me and were playing comatose instead?" Marina delivered a blow to Frank's head.

"Fuck! Will you _stop_ hitting me in the head?" Frank regretted saying something when he got a second blow, this time to his arm. "Stop hitting me altogether! I _was_ going to tell you once I finished thinking about other stuff. The invitation to the party happened last."

"You're weird," Marina stated. "Already decided that you're going to the party, then?"

"Of course!"

"You think your parents will let you?"

Frank hadn't had time to think about it, so he took a few moments before replying. The answer came easily. "Pretty sure, yeah. Ray will most probably be going too. Besides, my mom will say yes out of guilt, with all the shit she's been doing and saying lately."

"Yeah, you're right. So let me guess: you need help with your costume?"

"Exactly! Please, dear Mar?"

Marina puckered her lips in concentration, her eyes not looking at anything. "Frankenstein?"

"Too obvious," Frank replied instantly.

"A mummy?"

"Unpractical."

"Vampire?"

"Completely. Unoriginal." Frank had trusted her friend to come up with cool, innovative ideas. That was a big disappointment. "Come on, Mar, you can do better than that!"

"You haven't thought of anything so far, so I'd say shut up and let me keep thinking," she threw back. She was right; Frank had no comeback. "Mmm...werewolf? That one's not _that_ common, and sounds good for Winter.."

"Mar...don't take it wrong, but why limit myself to Halloween-themed costumes when it's not a Halloween party?"

"Well, it's like a delayed one..."

"Still not Halloween!"

"Okay, okay! How about...some superhero? There are a lot to choose from..."

"I'd most probably find someone dressed like me. And I won't go as some rather unknown, shitty one to avoid that!" 

"You get on my nerves, you know that?" Marina looked up at the ceiling, grunting. "Robot? Cowboy? A fucking banana?"

Frank shook his head. "Sorry..."

"Wizard? Sailor? Michael Jackson? A...damn bee?" she continued to suggest options.

"A _bee_? You serious? What am I, five?"

"Certainly acting like one..." Marina mumbled, then said louder, "You know? I give up. I better come back tomorrow when you've slept and stopped being a bratty princess."

Frank couldn't argue. Honestly, he had begun to annoy even himself. Nothing sounded right; everything seemed like a bad idea. He couldn't picture any of all the costumes Marina had mentioned _on him_. His tiredness _had_ something to do with that negativity, no doubt. But he had to admit there was something else. "Sorry, Mar. Please stay? I'm just...this makes me nervous, you know? All those guys, somewhere that's not the school, probably drinking..."

Marina had been headed for the door, but returned to the bed and sat down. She caressed Frank's hair. "But Gerard and some of the other nice guys will be there, right? And James is awesome too, you said."

"Yes but...fuck, I hate those assholes so much. When James was telling Gerard and I about the party, Steve appeared and he said..." Frank paused. All of a sudden, remembering that moment had given him some inspiration and he couldn't let it go. "I know! I fucking know what to wear!"

"What the...?"

Impulsed by his unexpected idea, Frank grabbed his jacket in one hand and took Marina's wrist with the other. He dragged her out of the room, down the stairs and to the living room, where he stopped to tell his dad that he would go to Marina's house for a while. It was a blessing from the Heavens that his mom wasn't home to ask her usual series of questions. All his dad said was, "Have fun! Call me if her mom's busy and can't bring you back, okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rarely say this about what I write, but I kinda like this little -rather silly- part. :P


	26. Chapter 26

They entered Marina's house and, while the girl stood in the center of the living room asking him what they were there for, Frank got ahead to search for her mom. He found her tiding the kitchen and didn't waste time with any greetings. He knew the woman was used to his urgent petitions, and he had mastered the art of persuading her with innocent smiles and dolly eyes. Beth was his enabler, who indulged Frank in everything his mother didn't. Not for a second did he consider the possibility of failure when she begged her, "Please, please, _please_ drive us to the costume shop downtown _now_?"

In barely twenty minutes, the three of them were walking through the doors of Be-it Costumes, the sound of bells welcoming them to the spacious shop. The smell in there was a mix of naphthalene, plastic, latex, make-up and various kinds of fabrics; it made Frank smile. He still hadn't told Marina -of her mom- what it was that he wanted to rent. They had asked, of course; many times as they drove there. But Frank had only answered, "You'll see, you'll see," while rubbing his hands in what he intended as a mischievous gesture.

At the front of the place was the counter and also all the extra accessories that didn't belong to any specific outfit: hats, masks, face paint, hair-bands with horns or antennas, fake noses and the like. Frank didn't think he needed any of that, so he ignored the section.

Following that, was the part that held all the actual costumes. It was a huge room with square black and white tiles, divided in the middle by an aisle. To the left, a red sign with white letters that hung from the ceiling read "Women", while a similar blue one to the right read "Men". The division sat wrong with Frank. Who decided those things? It was like telling people that the side that didn't match their gender was banned to them. What if a girl wanted to dress like Spiderman? What was wrong with that?

Frank couldn't let his hate for gender standards stop him now. And although his next step could have well served as an act of defiance, his mind had been previously set on it.

He walked into the women section, amused with the curious looks Marina and her mom were exchanging behind him. He wandered among the lines of costumes, noticing that they were arranged on separate metal racks by themes -like what you'd see with books or movies. Reading the smaller signs, Frank checked a few racks. He supposed what he was looking for could fit more than one category. It was when he found the one tagged with "Fairytales" that he began to browse through the costumes with more confidence; it had to be it. He slid the hangers along the rack one by one, letting out various types of involuntary noises of doubt or disapproval as he went.

"Won't you tell us what you're looking for?" Beth asked.

"You'll see if I find it!" replied Frank, eyes set on the passing outfits.

About halfway through his search, Frank had seen a costume that could work pretty well if nothing that matched his idea better appeared. Reaching the end of the rack, he sighed with resignation and retrieved the small green clothes he had eyed before.

"Well, I was thinking of something less character-specific, but this will do...with some adaptations," he thought aloud.

Marina stared at what Frank held from the hanger, frowning at it. "Tinkerbell, Frank? Are you sure?"

"Positive! They say I'm a fairy...so I'll give them a fairy!" He grinned. 

The aforementioned costume was of Tinkerbell as seen on the Disney cartoon. A great representation of it. The only difference was that what should have been a strapless top, was sewed to some kind of skin-colored, nylon undershirt with long sleeves. That detail pleased Frank for two reasons. One, he didn't have breasts to keep a strapless dress in place. Two, it was Winter.

Marina took the outfit out of Frank's hand and raised it so the very short, leafy skirt was at eye level. "Mmm..."

Beth seemed to be studying the same thing. "Are you _really_ sure, Frankie?"

Frank giggled. " _With some modifications_ , remember? I'm not into mini-skirts for the moment, honestly. But I think I'll be okay with it as long as I find some fitting green shorts to wear under. Don't want my butt to feel so defenseless among those pervs..."

"Oh, kid," his friend's mom laughed. "We'll go buy shorts next, definitely. And pantyhose. But...what about your mom? There's no way she'll approve of you going _anywhere_ in this..."

"That's why she can't know! I'll make something up and change somewhere else. I could just go to James' early. You won't tell mom...right, Beth?"

"You know I won't," the woman said. Another victory for Frank's perfectly practiced dolly eyes.

After having bought everything he needed and on the ride back, Frank gave the bag to Marina and told her to please keep it until Saturday. He was dying to try on the costume properly -since he had kept his jeans on at the shop, but he couldn't risk his mom seeing it. He needed to go straight home now, so his itch would have to wait until the next day after school at least.

"If we all happened to hang out together before the day of the party, don't mention anything to Gerard," Frank instructed his friend. "Oh and _please_ , Mar...don't tell Mikey anything! I'm sure he'd tell his brother and I want it to be surprise. He can't see me before the party!"

"What are you? A bride?" she mocked him.

Frank laughed, feeling his face heat up. "Shut up."

Marina got closer to him and whispered, "You like him."

"What?"

"You like Gerard..."

Many things had confused Frank in his short life, but this was one of the most confusing moments in a while. Why was Marina stating something obvious? "Uh...of course I like him, that's why he's my friend."

"You know what I mean...you _like-like_ him," Marina emphasized.

But no. Frank had _not_ known what she meant; not until now. He hadn't simply because the thought had never crossed his mind. He had never thought of Gerard that way. Therefore, he was honest when he replied, "What the fuck, Mar? No!" with conviction. 

"Okay, okay, I believe you!"

The girl had sparked Frank's curiosity. "And _...why_ did you come up with that? Did I ever look like I _liked-liked_ him to you?"

She thought for a while. "No, I really just said it 'cause of the way you were acting about the costume now. Never noticed anything before. Well, you've never liked-liked anyone that I know, so not sure how you'd act."

Marina had a point there. "Ahh, ok. And...no idea how I'd act either."


	27. Chapter 27

The following day, James' party was apparently the only conversation subject among most guys from the last two years. There was general excitement about it. Frank heard them pondering about what to wear, throwing costume suggestions -either seriously or in joke- and in some cases sharing names and descriptions of the girls they'd invite. 

That's how Frank found out that they could take someone with them to the party, a detail he had missed the previous day -if the spacey host had even mentioned it at all. Wanting to make sure it applied to all goers, Frank asked the impossibly smiley James, who startled him with a loud, "Of fucking course, my awesome Frankie-friend!" 

As far as Frank could see, he was the only one invited from 10th grade or below. It didn't make much of a difference to him, anyway; everybody he hanged out with was older. What's more, the green light given to them to invite one person each, most probably meant Marina and Mikey would be there too. Perfect.

Something else Frank had taken notice of, was that Matt and his closest friends didn't seem to partake in the party discussion.They sat talking in a group near the gym walls, occasionally directing undisguised mocking glances to the rest of guys. It was more than evident that they were criticizing something, be it the others' enthusiasm, someone's costume choice or the party idea itself. Frank had heard them say they were going, though, so it would make no sense if it was the last option.

Out of all Frank had seen and heard that day, however, it was Gerard who truly surprised him. Frank had perceived Way as more of the shy type that wouldn't be too happy with those kind of parties -or parties in general. He thought Gerard would probably just grab one of the monster masks he had seen lying around his room right before leaving for the party. 

Oh, _how_ wrong Frank had been. It looked like he still didn't know his friend well enough after all, because Gerard was quite excited about Saturday himself; very much so. The moment they met by the school gates, he hadn't hesitated to tell Frank that he was already decided on a costume. Frank didn't even need to ask him what it was, since all the information was included in the same sentence. Gerard would be a Ghostbuster, inspired by one of his favorite old movies.

After making the mistake of telling Gerard that he already _had_ his costume, the expected "What is it?" came right away. But as much as Frank was dying to answer, Gerard only got a "You'll have to wait..." in return. 

Gerard didn't accept the mysterious answer so easily. He insisted, asking once and again and arguing that he had told Frank first. Frank resisted the temptation like a champion; the idea of surprising Gerard was stronger. He didn't think Gerard would ever guess -although he did try, and he really wanted to see his face when he saw him. 

By the end of the school day, Gerard had finally admitted defeat and agreed to not mention the subject again. Frank hoped it was true, otherwise it would be hard to spend time at his friend's house without giving in.

******

There was an unusual silence at Gerard's house that evening. His dad was working, his mom grocery shopping and Mikey out with friends. Enough natural light still fell over the coffee table next to the window, so that was where Gerard and Frank sat quietly doing their respective homework.  

Frank had finished his math exercises long ago, but he kept checking them over and over to make sure they were correct. Truth be told, they always were, but taking it for granted would make him feel presumptuous. He didn't consider himself infallible.

Finally bored of revising the same numbers and symbols always obtaining the same result, he closed his binder and contemplated the still-life drawing Gerard was finishing for art class. 

What stood out the most to Frank over the soft brown background was an elegant, transparent jar with a silver spout and handle. It contained the same reddish liquid -red wine, Frank guessed- as the tall crystal coup to its right. To the left, a white platter only partially held a bunch of purple grapes, the extremity hanging out. Three red apples sprinkled with yellow filled in the spaces, everything resting on a cloth of a vivid blue color.

If he hadn't seen the first stages of Gerard's work, Frank would have sworn it was a photograph. Those grapes looked so alive and delicious that they made him want to reach out and take one, and he couldn't understand how glass and its glitter could be recreated so truthfully with a few traces of pencil. Even more admirable was that Gerard had refused to wait until the next class, when he would be able to see the set of objects again, to give the last touches. He'd said he had a picture of it in his mind and wanted to finish while he was inspired.

"That looks so fucking awesome, Gee," Frank voiced his admiration.

Gerard looked at him briefly and shrugged. "Thanks! It's not exactly my thing, though. I like to draw people more."

"I imagine that being damn hard. Drawing people, I mean. I don't think I could ever get someone's face right. I can copy things more or less decently, but when it's a human face there are so many details to have in mind... It _amazes_ me how artists can do it!" Frank gestured.

"I think one of the most important things you need, is to be a good observer -which I am," Gerard shared. Rethinking his words, he realized he probably sounded like a bragger. "I mean...I have that one down at least. I'm a good observer. But I didn't mean to say that alone makes me a great artist or anything. I can't give an opinion about my own art... But, back to the subject, I find it easier when I come upon a face that _really_ captivates me, which can happen for many different reasons."

Frank was absorbed in Gerard's words, finding the passion behind them highly interesting and inspiring. His friend could talk about art and the motivation behind it the whole day, but evidently tried to keep it short in fear of boring someone. Frank didn't think Gerard could ever bore _him_ , though. 

As he was browsing through some of Gerard's older drawings, still listening intently, a few certain words the other said after a pause caught Frank by surprise.

"You're perfect..."

Right away Gerard took conscience of how random and weird that had sounded out of context. He cursed his spontaneous loud thoughts once again. If he at least spoke out his _whole_ thoughts and not just a part of them, he wouldn't get himself into those kind of situations.

Frank raised his eyebrows, feeling abruptly jittery. He wanted Gerard to explain his statement, but all he could think of saying was, "What?"

Gerard seemed nervous and fidgeted a little before speaking. "I mean...uh...your face. It's...it's perfect. F-from an artistic point of view. So...symmetric, with delicate lines and features. Imperfect faces are always interesting to capture, the uniqueness of those imperfections. But to get a face like yours right? To respect the perfection? It's a real challenge."

Frank had never known how to respond to compliments. He liked them; they made his heart warm. But they were also the cause of the most awfully awkward moments. They didn't fail to make him blush embarrassingly. No one had ever talked about his face from an artist perspective before, though. That was new.

It would be better if he didn't tell Marina about it -he thought. It was a perfect excuse for her to go back to accusing him of _like-liking_ Gerard.  
   
Intending to break the still-present awkwardness, Frank grinned and said, "You're not thinking about drawing me, are you?" just as his friend had the same idea.

"I'd like to try drawing you some day," Gerard let out over Frank's voice. He laughed at the coincidence, but was curious about the way Frank had asked his question. "Why? You wouldn't let me?" 

"Do you want to paint me like one of your French girls, Way?" Frank questioned in a mocking tone, taking a hand to his mouth in feigned shock.  
   
The other couldn't hide his renewed nervousness. "Uh...what? You mean...no! I just want to draw your face, Frankie, f-for fuck's sake!" he stammered.

Frank snorted. "It's a _joke_ , Gerard."

"Oh. Okay..."

"Haven't you seen Titanic?"

"Only once long ago, not my thing," Gerard replied. "I knew of that line, though. Yeah."

"Awww, I _love_ that movie!" Frank commented. He chose to not make more fun of Gerard; the boy's face looked like a tomato. "I'm sorry. Anyway, I'm not ready to be your model, I think. It'd embarrass me a little to just...sit there as you stare and...dunno how to explain it."

"Oh no, it's ok, I get it. You don't have to _pose_ for me, though, I can use a pic," Gerard clarified.

"Oh...I could deal with that, maybe..." Marina would definitely _not_ hear about any of that from Frank.

Seeing that Frank had gone back to his no-doubt already solved and perfect exercises just to escape the subject, Gerard thought that he was probably being too insistent. "Doesn't have to be now, don't worry." He laughed. When Frank nodded and abandoned his math homework, Gerard remembered something and couldn't help himself. "On a different topic, won't you tell me what-"

"Nope. Not telling about my costume."


	28. Chapter 28

As if circumventing the awkward moment his stupid mouth put him through with Frank hadn't been stressful enough, Gerard still needed to tell his dad that he would be part of the team on the next football game. He hadn't dared to yet. It seemed ridiculous to be afraid of a guaranteed great reaction but really, he had his reasons. His father's brutal hug had almost made him pass out from lack of oxygen a month ago, and that was after only informing him that he was _practicing_ with the team. What would come now? A squashing tackle? A series of lung-loosening pats on the back? Gerard's dad had the same vigor as when he was a player himself...and also twice the weight.

He waited until the man made himself comfortable on one of the single sofas to watch his favorite show. Maybe that would soften the reaction. Maybe the older Way wouldn't even pay full attention to what his son had to tell him.

Gathering some guts, Gerard sat on one of the armrests of the seat his dad occupied. He watched Donald laugh and scratch his receding hairline lazily, waiting for a sign of acknowledgment that didn't come. Donald's eyes were still set on the TV screen. Any other time, Gerard would have felt offended. On this occasion, it was for the best.

When Gerard was about to talk, Mikey entered the room and just glared at him before plopping to the carpet-covered floor. Well; that was double trouble. He hadn't told Mikey the news either. Only their mom knew and had promised not to speak until Gerard decided to.

"I already know, you idiot," Mikey's revelation shocked him. "Now tell the old man so at least one of us is happy with your idiocy."

Donna's promises were worth crap, that was a fact.

Gerard nodded to his brother and said, "Dad...yesterday the coach told me I'm part of the team. I'm playing the next game."

This time, there were _clear_ signs that Gerard had been heard. The first was his father's hand reaching out for the remote control and turning the TV off. Next, the tears filling the man's eyes as he looked at Gerard.

Cranium-squeezing hadn't been in the list of possible tortures brought by happiness Gerard had thought of, but that was what he got. His dad's big hands cupped his head and applied pressure as the man laughed and cried to his face, kissing his forehead several times.

"Oh my god, son!  You have _no_ idea how happy this makes me!" Donald finally told him. "I thought...I thought none of you would follow my steps, you didn't seem too interested..."

Gerard felt so guilty. But he could only keep on lying. "Yeah. I...the guys insisted 'cause they knew of you and I thought it wouldn't hurt to give it a try. And then...I ended up liking it?"

"You're obviously good, too!" His dad let out a proud cackle.

"I guess?"

"Can't believe this shit..." Mikey mumbled.

Gerard feared that his dad had heard Mikey too, but Way Senior looked like he was daydreaming. He was probably picturing future triumphs, and Gerard would have felt even guiltier if he could actually _think_ at this point. It was hard with his head still in between his dad's hands.

"Dad, p-please..." He tugged at the restraining fingers until the man got the idea.

"Oh, sorry!" Donald withdrew his hands, using them to tap his knees excitedly instead. "Oh my God, Gerard. We have so much to talk, son! This weekend I'm going to teach you some tricks and secrets and then we can-"

"Dad, the game's not until after Winter break, there's time."

"Oh. When exactly? Is it the first weekend or-"

"I don't really know," Gerard cut his father off again.

"How come you don't?" The older frowned. Gerard supposed that kind of miss was unacceptable for a self respecting football player; especially for Donald Way's son.

"I...the news took me by surprise and I didn't ask much, okay?" He hoped he hadn't sounded too pissy -which he was.

"It's fine," Donald conceded. "Even if my son, you're still a beginner. You'll learn to pay more attention to dates. Just...find out tomorrow, okay?"

Gerard didn't like how serious his dad was taking things -and so soon, but assented. He just wanted out of there to scowl at himself in peace. "Do you mind if I go to my room now? I have to study," he continued to lie.

"No no, go! Football is great, but you must _never_ neglect your studies!" Donald preached, raising his index finger.

"I won't, promise." That was something Gerard didn't have to lie about. If he ever neglected school stuff, it wouldn't be because of football.

He should have guessed that escaping his father wouldn't grant him instant peace, though. Mikey followed him to their room and stood in front of him, needing no words to convey what was in his mind.

"It's not what you think," Gerard began to excuse himself.

"Social experiment," Mikey mocked. "How far will you go? I don't give a fuck about those guys you're 'studying', but did you see dad's face? You're gonna kill him when he finds out you never cared about playing football!"

"No I won't, 'cause he'll understand it was for a good cause!" Gerard retorted.

"Your experiment, a good cause? Since when?"

" _Fuck_ my experiment! It's not about that anymore! You know how Frankie and I want to do something to stop those bullies?"

The angry wrinkles on Mikey's forehead flattened. "Oh. The ones in the football team that beat up kids for being gay...or 'cause they think they are, right?"

"The same ones."

"So..."

"So, it's for _that_ cause that I'm doing this. Can't blow my cover yet." Gerard laughed at his own ability to make things related to their plan sound like part of a movie.

Mikey didn't seem to notice -otherwise he would have called him a weirdo. He was pensive. "Like...to attack them from the inside?"

"Not sure if 'attack' would be the word but-"

"It was just a saying, dumb-o."

Gerard was the one glaring now. "Something like that. We're still not sure about _how_ we'll stop them, but I need to stay in the team and pretend to like it until then. And hey...seems I'm good after all!"

"Bragger." Mikey chuckled. "I still think you're crazy, and weird. But I definitely support this cause. As opposed to your stupid 'social experiment.'"

"Thanks! Also better than Frank blackmailing James to get him to keep the guys at bay..." Gerard had told Mikey about it the day it happened, and he had agreed it was wrong. 

"Of course," the younger nodded. "At least you're only fucking with your own head."

"I guess..." The way Mikey worded it made Gerard feel terrible again for not stopping that. The poor James had been spending a lot of time following Matt around just in case, and he didn't even appear to be mad at Frank for putting him in that situation. James must like the kid a lot -he thought- to invite his blackmailer to the party. "And there's another benefit we get out of this, you and me."

"You and me? What?" Mikey asked.

"With how happy dad is...you can be sure he'll let you come to James' party with me."


	29. Chapter 29

Convincing his parents to let him go to the party wasn't as easy as Frank had expected. Even his dad sounded very doubtful and exposed his fears. His biggest worry was that the party would be full of older boys, and it was a given that there would be alcohol. Frank tried telling him that James' mom would never allow that, but his dad just laughed and said, "I was seventeen once, Frankie, there _will_ be alcohol, trust me." Linda looked very pleased to have her husband on her side for once. She assented to everything he said, adding her usual rants about the dangers for a boy like Frank.

After Frank sent an emergency text, Marina rushed to his house and joined the pleading. The girl's mother had already given her the okay, so Frank kept Beth in mind as next resort in case they failed. 

Together, Frank and Marina went over all the positive points again. They mentioned that Gerard and Mikey would be there too, and that several other boys from the football team were actually pretty nice and Frank's friends. They didn't forget to bring back the fact that James was simply awesome, and as the final touch they lied that his mom would be there supervising. Frank could only pray that his parents wouldn't ask for the woman's phone number.

Anthony and Linda seemed less closed-minded towards the idea now; or at least Tony did. He kept asking whether Ray would go to the party, though. Frank didn't know what to answer. "No," could mean hearing the same from his parents, but the "I still don't know" his brother had given him didn't sound too promising. He could be lying if he said "Yes," and it would be a short-lived lie. Why couldn't Ray just say he would go, like Frank had counted on? Sure, he hated to dress up, but he rarely missed a party and the team usually moved together like a pack.

There was only one thing left to do. Raising his voice as much as possible, Frank called for his brother. It wasn't until after the forth try that Ray came down the stairs with sleepy eyes and massive bed hair. His study plans had gone wrong, evidently.

"Are you going to the party or are you not?" Frank asked with pointed urgency.

Most probably guessing what it was all about, Ray let out a groan and said, "Yeah, I am. Let the midget go, I'll watch over him. And he won't touch alcohol, I promise you. Can I go back to sl- study now?"

Of course, Ray wasn't that lucky. He and Frank had to sit through a list of conditions to which they nodded numbly or, as much, mumbled a "Yes, mom," in reply. Frank was sure Ray abhorred him by the end of it, but he was too busy celebrating his triumph to worry about it.

When Ray finally went back to pretending to study, Frank found himself in more trouble while trying to escape the scene. His parents wanted to know what he would go as to the costume party. Frank couldn't tell the truth, but the problems wouldn't end with a simple lie. There would be several obstacles to sort in order to _maintain_ it -before and after the party.

Nevertheless, there was no other way to start. Marina luckily sorted the first obstacles for him. "I have lots of old clothes in my basement. We'll probably go as zombies or something else depending on what we find." 

"It's more fun to improvise on the go!" Frank helped.

"My mom will drive us, by the way," Marina completed.

Frank's parents bought the lie, although not without demanding pictures. A minor stone in the path that they would have to jump over when the moment came.

******

Frank and Marina's reality was, in all honesty, quite different from their initial expectations. In their minds, they were going to have a meticulous, error-proof plan ideated by Saturday. However, they spent most of their time dreaming about the party instead, and forgot that it was only two days away. Saturday caught them off guard, still with important loose ends.

Frank _could_ have gotten dressed in his Tinkerbell's costume at Marina's, but what about leaving? Even if he jumped in the car while it was still in the garage, he was sure his mom would be watching through their window, waiting to intercept them. Linda hadn't seemed happy with the way Frank ran out of the house with a "See you at midnight," not giving her any time for more recommendations. Neither had she been exactly a fan of the answer Frank gave her earlier, when she asked for pictures again. "I'm too old for you to hang photos of me in costumes around the living room, so you'll get none," he had told her. After being such an asshole, Frank needed no crystal ball to know that Linda would at least want to _see_ their outfits.

Suddenly aware of that problem, Frank went back to his first plan. He called James and told him they would be there one or two hours earlier so he could get changed. The only problem was that seeing Frank with _no_ costume would disappoint Linda. _Or_ make her suspicious.

"You need a temp disguise," Marina thought aloud. "Something easy to change out of...wait! I told your mom we'd probably go as zombies. That's it!"

"That's not _easy._ It'd be a lot of make-up and blood to get rid of _._ I'm not putting my skin through that just to fool my mom..."

"If you'd only let me finish, Frankie..." The girl sighed. "We'll get no fucking make-up on you. Or fake blood. If your mom appears and asks, we tell her we didn't want to make a mess in my mom's car, so we'll do the rest at James'. It will probably also save your ass from one of Linda's surprise pictures."

Frank grinned, hugging his friend. "You're a genius."

"No, _you_ are. I've told you I'm just a practical thinker."

"Whatever. We're _awesome_ together."


End file.
